if 



TEN TEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE. 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; 



Chapters from an ^utoMffgra^i. 




WILLIAM HENRY MILBTJKN", 

AUTHOR OF "THE RIFLE, AXE AND SADDLE-BAGS." 



M There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream. 
The earth, and every common sight, 
To me did seem 
Apparelled in celestial light, 
The glory and the freshness of a dream." 



NEW YORK: 
DERBY & JACKSON, 119 NASSAU STREET 
1860. 



AUTOGRAPH COLLECTION. 
REFERENCE 




Ehtskbd according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S3S, br 

WILLIAM HENRY MILBURN, 

IB tb« Clerk'i Office of the District Court of the United States for ±3 Southern Distric* 
New York. 



By Transfer 

D. C. Public Library 

FEB S 3 1933 



LC Control Number 




tmp96 029198 



W. H. Tinson, Stereotyper. 



RtrseELL, Printers. 



m PROPER^ 



Eo ®\xt 



WHO FOR THIRTEEN TEARS HATH BEEN TO ME A3 

A LIGHT SHINING IN A DARK PLACE, 

% 

{ M Y TV 1 F ^] ; 

THROUGH WHOSE EYES 
I HATE BEEN ENABLED TO ENJOY THE WORLD OF NATURE, 
AND WITH WHOSE TONGUE 
HATE KEPT COMPANY "WITH THE GREAT AND GOOD OP ALL AGES, 

THIS VOLUME 

IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



I 



PREFACE. 



On a starlight night, in the summer of 1854, 1 was 
pacing Nahant beach with the poet Longfellow. I 
could fancy that the smoke from our cigars shaped 
itself in fantastic wreaths about us. As our talk ran 
upon the old world and the new, upon the scenes we 
had visited and the men we had known, " Why do 
you not write the story of your life ?" he said. 

The idea had never occurred to me before. IsTot a 
week later, Mr. Prescott asked me the same ques- 
tion. 

Since then it has been often repeated. 

I have sought in this volume to set before the 
reader a truthful picture of the life of a Methodist 
preacher, which more than that of almost any other 
man in this country, is fraught with the experience 
of vicissitude. 



viii 



PREFACE. 



It must be remembered that by reason of my 
infirmity I have no contact with the printed page, 
that therefore the ear is my only guide in composi- 
tion. My intellectual training has been directed to 
one object — the acquisition of the power and habit 
of extemporaneous speech; the reader must not be 
surprised, then, if I have failed with the pen. 

Nearly every word of this book has been written 
with the fingers of the young people of my parish. 
John Randolph, used to exclaim, " ]STo man has such 
constituents as I have." I may say with equal 
truth — no man has such friends as I ! To the young 
men and women, therefore, who have used for me the 
pen of the ready writer, I hereby make my grateful 
acknowledgments. 



Brooklyn, N. Y., July 2Mh* 



CONTENTS. 



FAGB 

A Day of Clouds and thick Darkness, . • . • 1 3 

The Land of the Setting Sun, . • • .20 

Life in a Hesperian Garden, . . . • .28 

" There were Giants in those Days," • . . 35 

The Saddle-Bags taken up, 47 

Let no Man despise thy Youth, 59 

"Breaking Bread from House to House, they did Eat 
their Meat with Gladness and Singleness of Heart," . 70 

Brush College, .81 

Walking the Hospital, . • . . . • .99 

" Cry Aloud and Spare Not," . . . . .108 

A Reed shaken by the Wind, . • 9 . 115 

Congress and Two of its Young Men, . . . .123 

1* 



PAGB 

The Senate, • • 139 

Social Life in Washington, and some of its Traditions, . 166 

A Wedding Trip, . . . •* . . ..189 

Life on Wheels, 209 

Sketches of the Mississippi Valley, • • . -231 

Education of the Senses, ...... 267 

A Southern Home — Hard Study — Chauncey Hobart — 

Thomas Carlyle, . . . . ,278 

On the Road Again, ....... 301 

Southern Character, . . # ♦ . . . 3.15 

The Negro, . . . . . . . -337 

Flight for Life, ..«/..•• 353 



ii not now rs it laath been of yes® ; 
Turn wheresoe'er I may, 
By night or day, 
^be things which I have seen I now can see no mofSt 

11 The rainbow comes and goes, 
And lovely is the rose, 
The moon doth with delight 
Look round her when the heaveng are bare 
Waters on a starry night 
Are beautiful and fair ; 
The sunshine is a glorious birth, 
But yet I kno-v, where'er I go 
W&& there hath parsed away a glory from the earth," 



u What though the radiance, -which was once so brigbSj 
Be now forever taken from my sight — 
Though nothing can bring back the hour 
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower, 

vT* will grieve not — rather find 

Strength in what remains behind — 

In the primal sympathy, 

Which, having been, must ever be — 

In the soothing thoughts that spring 

O'U of human suffering ; 

In the faith that looks through death, 
la yssra aat bring the philosophic miad. 59 



TEN YEARS OF* PREACHER-LIFE. 



4& 

CHAPTEE I. 

A DAY OF CLOUDS AND THICK DARKNESS. 

"Well do I remember liow fair the earth and 
heavens appeared to me, a child nearly five years 
old, on a bright summer afternoon, in the year 
1828. The sun, fast going down the western sky, 
threw his slanting beams along the narrow streets 
and alleys, and over the quaint old houses which met 
my eye as I stood in one of the oldest portions of the 
city of Philadelphia. 

It was at the end of my father's garden, ap- 
proached from the house by a long gravel walk, 
lined on each side by beds of flowers, whispering to 
the childish ear, even in the heart of a great city, 
sweet tales of green fields, while over them as sen- 
tinels stood two old Lombardy poplars, their tall 
stately forms almost reaching, as it seemed to me, to 
the very sky. 

13 



14 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

Very beautiful to me was that little garden, when 
over it stretched so bright a sky, and the soft 
wind rustled through the branches of the trees ; 
and I recollect the hue and aspect of all as vividly 
as though I had seen it but yesterday. And with good 
reason do I remember it ; for never again was this brave 
show to appear to me on earth — a single blow blotted 
out for me the celestial beauty of the outer world. 

I was playing with a boy about my own age, when 
raising his arm, to throw a piece of glass or oyster- 
shell, and not seeing me behind him, the missile en- 
tered my left eye, as he drew his hand back, and laid 
open the ball just below the pupil. The sharp agony 
of pain and the sight of dropping blood alarmed 
me, and I sped like a frightened deer to find my 
mother. Then followed days and weeks of silence 
and darkness, wherein a child lay with bandaged 
eyes upon his little couch, in a chamber without light, 
and which all entered with stealthy steps and muffled 
tones. At last there came a morning, when I was 
led into a room where the bright sunshine lay upon the 
carpet ; and though dimmer than it used to be, never 
had I been so glad to behold it. But my gladness was 
suddenly checked when I found several strange gen- 
tlemen seated there, among whom was our family phy- 
sician, a tall, stern, cold man, of whom I had always 
been afraid. "What they were going to do I could 
not tell ; but a shudder of horror ran through me 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 15 

when, seated on my father's knee, my head resting on 
his shoulder, the doctor opened the wounded eye and 
he and the other surgeons examined it. They said 
that the cut had healed, and that all now needed to 
restore the sight entirely was the removal of the scar 
with caustic. How fearful was the fiery torture that 
entered the eye and burnt there for days, I need 
not attempt to describe ! Then came once more 
the darkened chamber and long imprisonment ; 
until I was led a second time into the light room, and 
the presence of the same men, who seemed to be my 
enemies, coming only to torment me. I shrunk from 
them, and cried aloud to my father to save me. The 
doctor caught me between his knees, threw my head 
upon his shoulder, thrust the caustic violently through 
the eye, and the light went out of it forever ! 

Matters were now worse than ever. Not only was 
a live coal placed in the socket of one eye, but it was 
feared that inflammation would destroy the other. 
Furiously did the inflammation rage in spite of all that 
skill and kindness could do. My third imprison- 
ment lasted two years. Living in a little chamber 
where brooded the blackness of darkness — under- 
going bleeding, leeching, cupping, besides swallowing 
drugs enough to dose a hospital, until the round 
childish form shrunk to a skeleton, and the craving 
of appetite was but tantalized with boiled rice, and 
mush without milk as an alternative — was not this 



16 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

a sad way for a child to spend his life, between the 
ages of five and seven ? 

Yet in the midst of all this there was comfort and 
cause for gratitude. My feeblest cry was never un- 
heard, so light was my mother's sleep ; and so constant 
was her care, through all those weary days and nights, 
that the bandages about my temples were never suf- 
fered to become dry. "When the sharpness of the 
agony had softened down into a numb or gnaw- 
ing pain, there was a happy time m every day for 
me ; this was when my father, relieved from the 
cares of business, with a heart tender and pitiful 
as a woman's, would steal softly into the room, and 
take me gently on his knee, and break the lapse of the 
short silence — the cause of which I learned to under- 
stand by many a shower of warm drops upon my 
head and hands — by telling me old stories of the Re- 
volutionary war, in which his father had served from 
Bunker Hill to Yorktown, and how he when a boy 
went duck shooting among the celery beds of Elk 
Eiver, and all the pleasant things that he could think 
of. Then he would tell me stories from the Bible ; 
and after a while, when we were allowed to have a lit- 
tle light within the room, he and my mother would 
read to me, the sacred words of that venerable book : 
and so I came to think upon God as my friend and 
father, and that thought was as a great light shining 
in the thick darkness. O irs was a humble home, and 



CHAPTEK8 FROM A3" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 17 



there was a stern discipline going on within it for the 
parents as well as for the child : and yet when the 
bitterness of the first grief was over, I much question 
if there were many happier. 

My weary confinement, like all other things in this 
world of change, came to an end ; and I stood once 
more in the breezy air, beneath the sunny shy. True 
there seemed a shadow on the day. The delicate 
hues of flowers and foliage, the light of stars, and 
that diviner light which shines through the human 
face, had faded into nothingness ; but I knew the 
rapture of liberty. It was like a release from the 
thraldom of the grave. Frequently afterwards I 
had to return to the bondage of my prison-house, as 
a protection from the glare of the summer's sun, and 
the winter's snow ; but never for more than a few 
weeks at a time. 

How much and in what way I could see I never have 
been able accurately to .describe. The left eye was 
gone altogether ! and after the ravages of the inflam- 
mation, the right retained the smallest possible trans- 
parent spot, not much larger than a pin's point, in the 
cornea and the pupil, through which the light might 
enter. To make this fraction of an eye available, it 
was necessary to use a shade above the eye and place 
the middle finger of the right hand beneath it ; thus 
forming a sort of artificial pupil? allowing only the 
due quantity of light to enter. By this means I was 



18 



TEN YEAES OF PKEACHER-LIFE ; OE, 



enabled to read a little for fifteen or twenty years, in 
strong daylight, holding tlie book very close to the 
eye, and bringing every letter to the precise spot on 
which the sight was fixed. 

Before my hurt I had learned to read, and now as 
I returned to the world, my school-days recom- 
menced. My infirmity prevented me from sharing 
the more active and invigorating sports of my fellows, 
and I was forced to seek a compensation in books and 
conversation. Miss Jane Porter was among my 
earliest friends, and "Washington Irving's Sketch 
Book was as familiar .as household words by the 
time that I was eight years of age. I had access to a 
tolerably well selected library, and slowly spelling 
out volume after volume of voyages, travels, biog- 
raphy, history and fiction, I was not envious when I 
heard the shouts and laughter of my schoolmates. 
" The words of the wise are as apples of gold in 
pictures of silver," and every author is a wise man 
to a studious boy. Books open a wonderful world to 
us, brighter than that on which the sun shines, and to 
be allowed to dwell and muse at will among its glories 
makes large amends for being deprived of the loveli- 
ness of the dim spot which men call earth, where 
" the grass withereth and the flower fadeth." 

The eye is a haven, at which the treasure fleets 
that sail through the ocean of light are unladen, and 
their stores deposited in the vaults of the intellect ; 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 19 

but it is through, the whispering gallery of the ear, that 
man reaches the heart of his fellow man most quickly 
and surely. Light and knowledge are for the eye, 
love and music for the ear. Hearing oftentimes 
seems to me a nobler sense than sight, with richer 
benedictions attendant on it, with tenderer and holier 
offices assigned to it. Man's voice, tuned by sym- 
pathy, moving to the modulations of intelligence and 
love, may perform the sweetest and holiest ministry 
of human life. Do you wonder, then, that with 
books and with friendly talk I learned to bear my 
affliction cheerfully 2 



20 



TEN YEARS OE PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



CHAPTER XL 

THE LAST) CE THE SETTING SUN". 

Our family story is a common one in this cour try 
of financial reverse and disaster. My father, who 
started in life with, nothing but rectitude and bnsi- 
ness habits, acquired a handsome fortune ; but the 
storm of 1837 overtook him with all sails set, and 
like many other* gallant barks, his was wrecked* 
When the fierceness of the squall was over, and 
we looked around to see what was left, we found that 
it consisted of honor, health, hope and our household 
furniture. In America to fail in business and to re- 
move to the "West are very apt to be cause and 
effect. 

To go from a warm sunny past through a dreary pre- 
sent filled with ruins — to leave behind home, and 
friends, and church — to break all the old strong ties of a 
life-time, and journey toward a land of strangers where 
all is new and untried, has been the heart sickening 
experience of many who will read these pages. But 
for the young, hope ever arrays the future with 
robes of glory ; and the Far "West is always a land 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



23 



of promise, flowing with, milk and honey. The Mis- 
sissippi was at the time I speak of almost the bound- 
ary of emigration, and people of the eastern States 
were accustomed to look upon Illinois as that part of 
the civilized globe lying next door to the setting sun. 
Of course, being so near to the couch of that distin- 
guished luminary, it caught and retained, for the un- 
initiated fancy, much of the brightness of which he 
divested himself, on retiring to rest. It would have 
done your eyes and heart good to see the many beauti- 
fully colored and mounted maps of the State, its noble 
counties, its unnumbered magnificent towns and 
cities, with classical and musical names, displayed 
upon the walls of hotels, and at the offices of disin- 
terested and philanthropic ' gentlemen whose sole 
object in life seemed to be to help their fellow crea- 
tures to find Paradise and Peru combined. How it 
kindled the eye and warmed the soul to hear these 
friends of humanity discourse on places whose names 
were borrowed from memorable spots in the pa?t, 
apparently with the view to show how much more 
famous they would become in this second appropria- 
tion than they had been in the first. There were 
Attica, Athens, Sparta, Golconda, Ophir, Cairo, 
Eome, Bethel, "Warsaw, Naples, Vienna, Paris, 
London, Edinburgh, Florence, Berlin, Petersburg, 
Pekin, Alexandria, Moscow, Delhi, and scores of 
others, all giving the eager listener assurance through 



22 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



the persuasive eloquence of the land agents, that how* 
ever the cities originally bearing them had failed in 
their mission, their grandeur now mouldering into 
decay, their faded glory would be more than atoned 
for by the success and splendor of their namesakes. It 
was eminently gratifying to observe how the maps bore 
witness to the public spirit and Christian liberality of 
the founders and citizens of these august and well 
named capitals. There were public squares at fre- 
quent intervals, whose forest trees shaded beautiful pro- 
menades and drives, and in every one of these squares 
were spots selected where stood, or were to stand, 
statues of memorable persons, and others from which 
fountains were to throw their rainbow shafts high in 
air. Here the Male Academy was placed, and there 
the Female Seminary, and yonder was the Univer- 
sity. The churches were abundant ; moreover you 
were informed that such was the rush of population 
to the "West that the nation would soon have to move 
its capitol to Cincinnati, and you already began to 
feel sorry for the poor old deserted eastern States, 
One fear^ alone haunted your mind, that — as accord- 
ing to the maps' story the State was covered with towns 
and cities — there would soon be no farms, and then 
where would the wheat and corn come from to feed 
such a population ? 

I am writing of 1838. In May of that year we 
took our journey to the far-off country. It required 



CHAPTERS FKOH AjST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 23 

two weeks to go a distance which, could now be tra- 
versed in two days. At length we reached our desti- 
nation, Jacksonville, Morgan County, Illinois, twenty 
miles east of the Illinois River, and a hundred miles 
northeast of St. Louis. 

If the maps and descriptions had wrought us an 
enchanter's spell, the charm was soon broken. One 
great capital after another had vanished, and a stage- 
ride from Naples through Exeter and Geneva to 
Jacksonville, a distance of twenty-two miles, served 
to quiet any apprehensions we might have entertained 
as to the density of population and the multiplicity 
of the towns preventing the growth of breadstuffs ; 
for the namesakes of the Italian, Swiss, and English 
cities consisted of about a dozen log-cabins, each 
with a frame house or two belonging to the great pro- 
prietors. But though there were no great towns on 
the road, there w r as a country of as quiet, picturesque, 
and smiling lovelinesSj as the eye of man ever rested 
on. "We crossed the river bottom, mounted the noble 
bluff which serves " in the office of a wall," drove 
through narrow belts of timber, crossed the skirts of 
rolling prairies, the road passing the summit of an 
ascending ridge until we gained " the Mound," four 
•miles from our journey's end. From this elevation 
the land fell off in gentle swells toward the groves on 
the edge of the horizon. The prospect was divided 
between cultivated fields, green with the ripening 



2i TEN TEAES OF PEEACHZK-LIFE J OB, 

wheat, and the tender shoots of corn, and unfenced 
prairie, where countless cattle were cropping the 
sweet wild grass and flowers. Here and there young 
orchards, near the cabins of the earliest settlers, gave 
promise by their bloom of rich stores of fruit to come, 
The air was freighted with the smell of new-mown hay, 
of prairie flowers, and the blossoms from the distant 
woods. Sky and earth wore the bright liverv of sum- 
mer, and the air in its balmy incense seemed to offer 
the New "World's first fruits to its maker. 

An hour's drive hence brought us to our new 
home. The pretty village stood in the middle of 
a high rolling prairie, and already had marts of 
tasteful embellishment in the trees, shrubberv, and 
flowers, about almost every house. White lead, how- 
ever, is the most notable feature in our new towns. 
Eastern emigrants cannot long brook log houses ; and 
while those unsightly yet necessary and most com- 
fortable abodes, serve the earliest settlers, the saw 
mill and paint pot are quickly at work to produce the 
second crop of civilization in the shape of frame 
houses with very thin walls, covered with clap-boards. 
I confess to a grateful love of log cabins, and am much 
inclined to the belief that their humble roofs have 
sheltered a greater amount of health, content, happi- 
ness and virtue than any other style of domestic 
architecture. 

In the centre of the town was the public square 



CHAP TEES FROM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



25 



From this proceeded the four principal streets ,which 
in their continuation kept us ili correspondence with 
the four quarters of the globe ; and many a time 
have I looked upon stages running their several ways 
and fancied them monster shuttles weaving us into 
the world's web, and laying our life threads side by 
side with our fellows in the vast fabric of humanity. 
The sides of the square were lined with the shanties 
in which was transacted- the business of the place. 
The occupants of these lowly shops, in which was 
sold all manner of merchandise — from the ribbon 
that trimmed the bonnet of the rustic belle, to the 
plough which broke up her father's acres — were 
styled merchants, and the occupation of bartering 
molasses and calico, for beeswax, butter and. eggs, 
was denominated the mercantile. At frequent in- 
tervals were located "groceries, 55 most commonly 
called " doggeries, 55 where " spirits 55 were sold by 
" the small 55 i. e. the glass. In the centre of the 
square stood the court and market houses, the one 
brick, the other frame. The market was two stories 
high, the lower story devoted to the sale of meats, and 
the upper to a newspaper and lawyers' offices, the gal- 
lery at the side serving as a rostrum for stump ora- 
tors. Saturday was a great clay, when from many 
miles around the old and young, male and female, 
came with every product of the land, by every means 
of conveyance, to trade. Homespun dames and dam- 

2 



26 



TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OR 



sels, making the circuit of the square inquiring at 
every door : " D'ye buy eggs and butter yer ?" and 
sometimes responding indignantly, as I heard a 
maiden once when told that eggs were bringing only 
three cents a dozen : " "What, do ye s'pose our hens 
are gwine to strain theirselves a laying eggs at three 
cents a dozen ? Lay 'em yourself, and see how you'd 
like the price." 

It was a lively scene on a market day ; with its 
crowds of prairie wagons, long, low uncovered boxes 
placed on wheels, in which the articles sold and 
bought, to which the generic name of plunder was 
applied, were conveyed to and from the town; 
while groups of saddled horses, pawing the earth 
and neighing their neighborly recognitions to each 
other, stood fastened at the posts. Here you might 
descry a piratical cow, boarding a wagon by adroitly 
raising her fore legs into it, smelling around, while 
the trading owner was absent for fruits and vege- 
tables, or even devouring his purchased stock of 
sugar ; and- there sweeping along at full gallop, some 
half drunken jockey, showing off the points of his 
steed, and with stentorian voice offering to bet any 
man ten dollars that it was the best piece of horse 
flesh on the ground. 'Groups are gathered in front of 
all the "doggeries," at the street corners, and at the 
doors of the court-house, discussing politics, or other 
urgent questions of the time ; differences of opinion^ 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 27 

stimulated by bald-face whisky, often bringing 
these conferences to a pugilistic termination. Mean- 
while the older ladies, arrayed in dark linsey-woolsey 
dresses — the lower front adorned by blue check 
aprons — their heads covered with, sun-bonnets, and 
their feet with, yarn stockings and brogan shoes or 
moccasins, having brought the interesting and com- 
plicated operations of trading to a close, stand idly 
about with folded arms, regaling themselves with 
fumes of tobacco, inhaled from a corncob or sweet 
potato pipe. The exercises of the day were usually 
varied by political speeches, a sheriff's sale, a half 
dozen free fights, and thrice as many horse swaps. 
Just before sundown the traders departed, and the 
town was left to its inhabitants. 

The principal denominations of Christians had 
houses of worship in the village, and the society of 
the place made up of representatives from all sec- 
tions of the Union, had a higher intellectual, moral 
and religious tone than is usual in a new country. 

Besides the President and Professors of Illinois 
College, there was quite a number of men, distin- 
guished in the State by their positions at the bar 
and in politics ; and from all sides the new comers, 
who deserved it, received cordial welcome and hos- 
pitable courtesy. 



28 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



CHAPTER EL 

LIFE IN A HESPERIAN GARDEN. 

Our boxes were unpacked, and our household 
goods arranged, in a little house which was intended 
to have one room below and a loft above, but the 
lower room had been skillfully divided by thin board 
partitions into three. Housekeeping thus began, and 
as we gradually fitted ourselves to the new order of 
things, we felt more and more at home. 

My father raised a small capital, and taking heart 
of grace, ventured once more into the uncertainties 
of business, and I was installed as my mother's assist- 
ant in housekeeping, and as my father's in merchan- 
dising. In that free and independent country, such 
things as servants were not — not even help or hired 
girls — so that the women of the household had their 
own work to do, their husbands and sons aiding them 
by attending to the " chores." Therefore this saying 
passed into a proverb — "It is a good country for 
men and horses, but it is death on women and 
oxen." 

It devolved upon me to draw the water and cut 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 29 

the wood; but I cannot boast that, with my best 
endeavors, I ever acquired much facility in milking 
a cow. Early rising was the habit of the land, and 
our family was not second to the foremost ; but 
whether from constitutional indisposition or excess 
of the discipline, or a failure in it, I cannot tell, yet I 
fear much that the practice then submitted to from 
necessity has implanted in me an unconquerable 
repugnance to Dr. Franklin's adage, and in spite of 
my better judgment, I feel the tip of my nose sud- 
denly aspiring whenever I hear that wise counsel 
preached — 

"Early to bed, and early to rise, 
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." 

In winter-time we always breakfasted by candle* 
light ; and, by the way, although I do not believe I 
should ever have acquired eminence as a tallow- 
chandler, it is fair to state that I did acquire some 
skill in the manufacture of " dips and moulds," and 
also of "soft soap," the kind chiefly in use — I mean 
the literal, not the metaphorical. It fell to my lot to 
prepare the early repast. After kindling the fire 
and putting on the kettle, I ground and made the 
coffee, laid the table, and then hurried to the store, 
where another fire was to be lighted, and the pre- 
mises swept and dusted. Returning, I was in time 
for the meal, and at its close, my father went to the 



30 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

counter 3 while I staid to play domestic. These duties 
ended, I entered upon those of clerk and "book- 
keeper, making small entries, measuring what the 
natives call — not, I suppose, with the cognizance of 
Lindley Murray — " them molasses," or weighing out 
coffee, tea, and sugar. 

My old passion for reading had survived, and as I 
soon became acquainted with almost everybody in 
the village, books enough were lent me to fill my 
leisure moments. 'Nothing came amiss, and with 
what greediness, nay, rapa,city, did I devour every 
one that fell in my way ! There was always a volume 
at hand, and with my seat at the door in summer 
time, and by the window in the winter, for the 
strongest light was needful, every gap in business 
was appropriated to the beloved page; and even 
whilst standing behind the counter, counting eggs, 
weighing butter, or summing up accounts, the rap- 
turous world to which books had introduced me, with 
its fadeless lights and sounding oracles, its profound 
truths and majestic ideals, still owned me as a new- 
born inhabitant, and I was happy. The lowly affairs 
by which I was employed seemed unreal, and the 
teachings of the historian or the poet alone appeared 
to be present and substantial. I have often won- 
dered whether any one ever enjoyed such delight in 
reading as I did in those days, the opportunities were 
so spare, and the difficulties so great. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 31 

"With what rapt and reverential devotion did I 
muse and ponder upon the writers of books ! There 
was a gentleman in the village who had known 
Paulding, Longfellow, and Washington Irving. This, 
together with the fact that he owned several hundred 
well-assorted volumes, made him a hero and sage to 
my fond idolatry. Never have I stood in such awe 
of a human being. ISTever could I speak to him 
without stammering and blushing ; but I listened to 
every syllable he uttered, and treasured even the 
lightest word upon literature that fell from him, as if 
it had been spoken by an oracle. Little are educated 
men apt to dream of the lasting benedictions which 
their conversation may bestow upon the mind and 
heart of boyhood. 

My studies had hitherto been devoted, exclusively, 
to the English branches, but I began to yearn for an 
acquaintance with those tongues in which the 
master-minds of antiquity had spoken, and so my 
kind father yielded to my persuasion, notwithstand- 
ing his fear that persistent study would yet more 
impair my sight, and brought me home one day a 
Latin grammar and reader. I wrought away with 
youthful ardor until I had mastered them ; and, at 
length, as our affairs began to improve, it was ar- 
ranged that I should have a master for an hour or 
two a day. The lessons were conned at the store, 
and recited at the school. Greek was added to 



82 TEX YEARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE J OR, 

Latin, and in due time I was ready to enter college. 
Household, mercantile, and collegiate duties bound 
on me the burden of life's toils and cares, while as 
an offset, I enjoyed my daily walk of four miles, 
besides the mirthful chat and frolic of my hearty, 
romping, yet hard-working classmates. They were 
noble fellows — our old collegians — among whom 
a man's worth was determined, not by the clothes 
he wore, or the money in his pocket, but by 
his resolution to conquer difficulties, his will for 
hard work, and his spirit for good fellowship. Sot 
a few of them, to whom eleemosynary aid had been 
offered, disdained it, and to preserve their indepen- 
dence, and yet acquire an education, cut wood at 
seventy-five cents a cord, lived on potatoes and corn- 
meal, paid their own tuition bills, and having hewed 
their way through college, came out of it with a 
double education, worth the having. Many of them 
" boarded themselves," as it was called, and they felt 
that their knowledge of cookery, thus acquired, was 
by no means despicable. What feasts we had out of 
roast potatoes, fried chickens, and roasted turkeys 
partridges, prairie-hens, wild geese, and the like, with 
now and then a haunch of venison ; the vegetables 
being the trophies of the hoe, the winged or four- 
footed creatures, the trophies of the gun of one or 
another of the party. 

Of course, we had the customary college anecdotes 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 33 

and songs, the usual amount, no doubt, of sophomoric 
speech-making; enough of us were addicted to 
the use of the weed, and all of us incurred the eus- 
tomary charge for repairs, injuring the walls of the 
rooms by sitting with our chairs thrown back, and 
our heels placed against the aforesaid walls, at points 
which would be intersected by horizontal lines run- 
ning over the tops of our craniums. But we had no 
society such as I have heard of in some of the Eastern 
colleges, for the promotion and diffusion of indolence ; 
the first medal offered by which, was awarded to the 
deserts of a gentleman who nailed his slippers against 
the mantel-piece, so that when his feet were raised 
to the level of his head, he should not have the 
trouble of holding them there. 

Our fun was fun alive. In behalf of our alma 
mater, we can lay claim to a distinction unshared by 
any other American seat of learning, to wit, that it 
has never conferred the title of D.D. on any man un- 
worthy to receive it, for in a life-time of five-and- 
twenty years, it has had the .good taste never to 
confer it on anybody. 

Our pecuniary circumstances continued to mend, 
and I thereby gained more time and greater facilities 
for study. But the artificial posture which I had to 
assume in order to read at all, bent almost double, 
so seriously affected my breast and spine that my 
health was undermined, and fears were entertained 

2* 



34: TEN" YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

for my life. The physicians peremptorily ordered 
me to leave college, give up books, mount a horse, 
and take as ranch exercise as practicable. This was 
in February, 1843. A barrier that could not be over- 
leaped was thus placed before me ; my road turned 
off, and I quitted the land of my dreams and hopes ; 
a life of scholastic seclusion and contemplation, for a 
life of vicissitude and active toil. It cost many an 
hour of lonely wretchedness and hopeless brooding, 
to come at last to a surrender, to relinquish desire, 
expectation, and promise. Not easily nor quickly is 
the lesson of renunciation learned ; yet are we not led, 
even though it be in a path! that we have not known, 
and stayed by an invisible yet almighty -hand ? "-If 
any man will come after me, let him deny him- 
self daily, and take up his cross and follow 
me." 

Heavily and painfully, amid the languor of -dis- 
ease and weakness, did the past fade out, and the 
curtains of the future were slowly withdrawn. 



CHAP TEES FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



35 



CHAPTER IV. 

" THERE WERE GIAOTS IK THOSE DAYS." 

From my earliest recollection my father's house 
had been a home for Methodist preachers, and I had 
grown up with an ardent admiration and vehement 
affection for the toil-worn veterans of the olden time. 
The fame of their sufferings and self-sacrifice, of their 
simple faith and burning zeal, of their persecutions 
and successes, of their humor and eloquence, was 
familiar to me. They were noble men, those 
fathers of American Methodism, and worthy to be 
held in remembrance, — Asbury, McKendree, George, 
Roberts, Emory, Merwin, Capers, Hope, Hull, and 
their associates. Their venerable appearance, get 
off with straight-breasted coats and vests, and 
white cravats ; their heads surmounted with hroad- 
brimmed white beavers, and their grave dignity, 
relieved and rendered more effective by rays of humor 
and pleasant recitals of droll adventures, made a pro- 
found and lasting impression upon my childish fancy. 
It was usual among people of our condition in 
Philadelphia, to have " evening companies " several 



36 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

times a year, to which the prominent preachers and 
their families, besides other members of the society, 
were invited. I heartily wish that Mr. Dickens, 
whose chief ministerial acquaintances seem to be- 
long to the school of Stiggins and Chadband, could 
have been present on some of those occasions. He 
would have seen the representatives of a hearty man- 
hood that must have won his admiring regard, and 
heard bursts of humor as genial and pathetic as his 
own. 

They were men of a wide and varied acquaintance 
with life, and an experience of the deep things of 
God; not lettered to any considerable extent, but 
reading human nature and its histories at first-hand. 
The ardor of an early enthusiasm had not been 
toned down by conventionalism, or chilled by skep- 
ticism and unbelief. The hardships, sufferings, and 
dangers which they had cheerfully undergone, the 
smallness of their salaries, the self-denying spirit 
which they were wont to manifest, together with 
their straightforward, independent bearing, made 
them dear to the hearts of the people. The relations 
of pastors and flock w r ere of the most simple, 
friendly, and even intimate character ; and whilst 
the seriousness of a Christian bearing was never 
compromised, intercourse was beautified, and adapt- 
ed to all sorts and classes of persons by an infusiou 
of the most genial human tenderness. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 37 

Never, I suppose, will food taste as sweet to me 
again as did the suppers of those early days at the 
children's second table. But the relish of the viands 
was surpassed by the zest with which we young- 
sters, in the seats allotted to us among our elders, in 
the parlor, listened to the stories and adventures of 
these men, who in truth seemed to us prophets of 
the Lord. They were ever kindly in their regard 
for children, and were accustomed to speak some 
comfortable words to each child present. The even- 
ing's close was always hallowed by a chapter read 
from the Bible, a hymn in which the voices of all 
present joined, and a prayer earnestly commending 
every one present to the care of Him who careth for 
all. "What a strange fire glowed within Ihe bosom, 
as I, a tow-headed urchin, stood with my face to the 
wall, and listened to the harmonious voices swelling 
the praises of God, and thought of those glorious 
fathers, who, in all their wanderings and trials, felt 
that they were hidden beneath the -hollow of an 
Almighty hand. They were the Paladins of my 
childhood's chivalry ; knights, the weapons of whose 
warfare were not carnal, but mighty through God, 
to the pulling down of strongholds. 

This early veneration and affection went with us 
to the "West, and as soon as we were able to take 
possession of a house with a spare room, that room 
was styled the prophet's chamber, and our allele 



38 



TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE : OS, 



again became the home of the preachers. Making 
allowance for the differences between an older and a 
new country, they were men of the same school as 
those we had before known ; for, notwithstanding 
the play of the most decisive individuality, the 
strongest family likeness marks all the Methodist 
preachers I have seen. I knew no greater pleasure 
than to act the part of ostler on behalf of the horses 
of our welcome guests, acquiring thereby a know- 
ledge and skill in the use of horseflesh which stood 
me in good stead years after. The first Sunday after 
our arrival we attended the Methodist church. It 
was a bright June morning ; the place, the people 
were all strange, and we felt the keen pang of 
loneliness *more on that first day in our Father's 
house than at any other time. TThile sadly brood- 
ing over the dear old home far awav, and thinking 
of the contrast between it^and this unfamiliar place, 
our attention was arrested by a strange apparition 
striding up the aisle. All seemed whispering to 
their neighbors, u there he goes,' 3 and all eyes were 
riveted upon a man of medium height, thick-set, 
with enormous bone and muscle, and although his 
iron-grey hair and wrinkled brow told of the 
advance of years, his step was still vigorous and 
finn His face was bronzed by exposure to the 
weather ; he carried a white Quaker hat in his hand, 
and his upper garment was a furniture calico dress* 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 39 

ing-gown, without -wadding. The truant breeze 
seemed to seise this garment by its skirt, and lifting 
it to a level with his arm-pits, disclosed to the gaz- 
ing congregation a" full view of the copperas-colored 
pantaloons and shirt of the divine — for he was a 
divine, and one worth a day's journey to see and 
hear. 

He had then been a backwoods preacher for nearly 
forty years, ranging the country from the Lakes to 
the Gulf, and from the Alleghanies to the Mississippi. 
He was inured to every form of hardship, and had 
looked calmly at peril of every kind — the tomahawk 
of the Indian, the spring of the panther, the hug of 
the bear, the sweep of the tornado, the rush of 
swollen torrents, and the fearful chasm of the earth- 
quake. He had lain in the canebrake, and made his 
bed upon the snow of the prairie and on the oozy 
soil of .the swamp, and had wandered hunger-bitten 
amid the solitude of mountains. He had been in 
jeopardy among robbers, and in danger from despe- 
radoes who had sworn to take his life. He had 
preached in the cabin of the slave, and in the man- 
sion of the master ; to the Indians, and to the men 
of the border. He had taken his life in his hand, 
and ridden in the path of whizzing bullets, that he 
might proclaim peace. He had stood on the out- 
skirts of civilization, and welcomed the first comers 
to the woods and prairies. At the command of 



40 TEN YEARS OP PREACHER- LIFE ; OR, 

Him wlio said, " Go into all the world," lie had 
roamed through the wilderness ; as a disciple of the 
man who said " The world is my parish," his travels 
had equalled the limits of an empire. All this he 
had done without hope of fee or reward; not to 
enrich himself or his posterity, but as a preacher of 
righteousness in the service of God and of his fellow- 
men. Everywhere he had confronted wickedness, and 
rebuked it ; every form of vice had shrunk abashed 
from his irresistible sarcasm and ridicule, or quivered 
beneath the fiery look of his indignant invective. 

In the character of the Christian minister might 
have been a slightly exaggerated infusion of the 
frontiersman's traits. The whole line of his conduct 
may not have been marked by the spirit of meek- 
ness, or guided by infallible wisdom ; but let those 
who have been tried as he was, and have overcome, 
as he has, be the first to throw the stone of censure at 
him. Many a son of Anak has been levelled in the 
dust by his sledgelike fist ; and when the blind fury 
of his assailants urged them headlong into personal 
conflict with him, his agility, strength, and resolution 
gave them cause for bitter repentance. Another 
Gideon, he has more than once led a handful of the 
faithful against the armies of the aliens, who were 
desecrating the place of worship and threatening to 
abolish religious services, and put them to inglorious 
flight. But he only girded on his strength thus, and 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 41 



used the weapons that nature gave him, when neces- 
sity and the law of self-defence seemed to admit of 
no escape. The vocation in which he gloried was 
that of an itinerant preacher, his congenial sphere 
that of a pastor in the woods. To breathe the words 
of hope into the ear of the dying, and to minister 
solace to the survivors ; to take little children np in 
his arms and bless them ; to lead the flock over 
which the Holy Ghost had made him an overseer, 
and to warn the ungodly of the error of their ways, 
entreating them to be reconciled to God by the cross 
of Christ, was the business of his life. Learning he 
had none, but the keenest perceptions and the truest 
instincts enabled him to read human nature as men 
read a book ; a sagacity rarely at fault, a powerful 
fancy, and a vivid sympathy, that supplied the want 
of imagination — these, together with the dedication 
of his whole soul to his work, and a studious and 
prayerful acquaintance with holy Scripture, made 
h\m a workman that needed not to be ashamed. 

A voice which, in his prime, was capable of almost 
every modulation, the earnest force and homely 
directness of his speech, and his power over the 
passions of the human heart, made him an orator to 
win and command the suffrages and sympathies of a 
western audience. And ever through the discourse, 
came, and went, and came again, a humor that was 
resistless, now broadening the features into a merry 



12 TEN YEAKS OF PKEACHEfJ-LIFE J OK, 

smile, and then softening the heart until tears stood 
in the eyes of all. His figures and illustrations were 
often grand, sometimes fantastical. Like all natives of 
a new country, he spoke much in metaphors, and his 
were borrowed from the magnificent realm in which 
he lived. All forms of nature, save those of the 
sounding sea, were familiar to him, and were em- 
ployed with the easy familiarity with which children 
use their toys. You might hear, in a single dis- 
course, the thunder tread of a frightened herd of 
buffaloes as they rushed wildly across the prairie, 
the crash of the windrow as it fell smitten by the 
breath of the tempest, the piercing scream of the 
wild cat as it scared the midnight forest, the majestic 
rhythm of the Mississippi as it harmonized the distant 
East and West, and united, bore their tributes to the 
far-off ocean ; the silvery flow of a mountain rivulet, 
the whisper of groves, and the jocund laughter of 
unnumbered prairie flowers, as they toyed in dal- 
liance with the evening breeze. Thunder and light- 
ning, fire and flood, seemed to be old acquaintances, 
and he spoke of them with the assured confidence of 
friendship. Another of the poet's attributes was his 
— the impulse and power to create his own language ; 
and he was the best lexicon of western words, 
phrases, idioms, and proverbs, that I have ever met. 

Such was the man that now stood before us in the 
desk; the famous presiding elder of Illinois — the 



CHAPTEES FROM AS AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 43 

renowned Peter Cartwright. All honor to the brave 
old man, who still lives after an itinerancy of untold 
toil, hardship, and sufferings, which reaches nearly 
to the verge of sixty years, and is to-day as indefati- 
gable, nealous, and faithful as when in the prime of 
his strength. One feature of his life I must not omit 
to mention, the fact that he has sold more books than 
probably any man ever did in a new country. The 
Methodist economy enjoined it as a duty on the 
preacher to diffuse a sound literature, and to place 
good books in the homes of the people. Unwearied 
here, as in everything else that he believed to be his 
duty, this minister never travelled, if in a buggy, 
without a trunk, or if on horseback, without a pair 
of saddle-bags, crammed with books. These he dis- 
posed of with all diligence, and has thus entitled 
himself to the lasting gratitude of many a youth, 
who, but for him, might have slumbered on without 
intelligence or education. I have dwelt upon the 
character of this man, not only because I love and 
revere him, but because 1 know of no one who may 
more fitly stand as the type of the pioneer preachers 
of the "West — men whose worth, self-sacrifices, and 
labors, have never had their meed of recognition. 
Perhaps my sketch may be rendered more complete 
by the following story; at all events, it illustrates the 
humorous side of his character : He was brought, some 
years ago, by business connected with the church, to 



44 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

the city of New York, where a room had been engaged 
for him at the Irving House. Reaching town late at 
night, he registered his name, and waited until the 
sleepy hotel clerk cast a glance at the rather illegible 
scrawl, and at the farmer-like appearance of the man 
before him. The servant was directed to show the 
gentleman to his room, which, toiling up one flight 
of steps after another, Mr. Cartwright found was the 
first beneath the leads. The patronizing servant ex- 
plained to the traveller the use of the various article? 
in the room, and said, on leaving, pointing to tb* , 
bell-rope, " If you want anything, you can just p^'i 
that, and somebody will come up." 

The old gentleman waited until the servant * t d 
had time to descend, and then gave the rop< a 
furious jerk. Up came the servant, bounding two, 
three steps at a time, and was amazed at the reply 
in answer to his " "What will you have, sir ?" 

" How are you all coming on down below ? It 
is such a ways from here to there, that a body can 
have no notion even of the weather where you are." 

The servant assured him that all was going on 
well, and was dismissed, but had scarcely reached 
the office before another strenuous pull at the bell 
was given. The bell in the City Hall had struck a 
fire alarm, and the firemen, with their apparatus, 
were hurrying with confused noises along the street. 

" What's wanting, sir ?" said the irritated servant. 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



45 



" What's all this hulla-balloo ?" said the stranger. 
" Only a fire, sir." 

" A fire, sir !" shouted the other ; " do yon want us 
all to be burned up 2" knowing well enough the fire 
was not on the premises. 

The servant assured him of the distance of the con- 
flagration, and that all was safe, and again descended. 
A third furious pull at the bell, and the almost 
breathless servant again made his appearance at the 
door. 

"Bring me a hatchet," said the traveller, in a per- 
emptory tone. 

" A hatchet, sir !" said the astonished waiter. 
" Yes, a hatchet." 
" What for, sir ?" 

" That's none of your business ; go and fetch me a 
hatchet." 

The servant descended, and informed the clerk 
that, in his private opinion, that old chap was crazy, 
and that he meant to commit suicide, or to kill some 
one in the house, for that he wanted a hatchet. 

The clerk, with some trepidation, ventured to the 
room beneath the leads, and having presented himself, 
said in his blandest tone, " I beg your pardon, sir, 
but what was it you wanted ?" 

" A hatchet," said the imperious stranger. 

H A hatchet, sir, really ; but what for ?" said the 
other. 



46 TEN TEAKS OF PEEACHER-LIEE J OK, 

" What for ! Why, look here, stranger, yon see 
I'm not accustomed to these big houses, and it's such 
a journey from this to where you are that I thought 
I might get lost. ]STow, it is my custom, when I am 
in a strange country, to blaze my way; we cut 
notches in the trees, and call that blazing, and we 
can then always find our way back again; so I 
thought if I had a hatchet, I'd just go out and blaze 
the corners from this to your place, and then I would 
be able to find my way back." 

" I beg your pardon," said the mystified clerk ; 
" but what's your name, sir ? I could not read it 
very well on the book." 

"My name," replied the other — "certainly; my 
debts are all paid, and my will is made. My name 
is Peter Cartwright, at your service." 

" Oh, Mr. Cartwright," responded the other, " I 
beg you ten thousand pardons ; we have a room for 
you, sir, on the second floor — the best room in "the 
house. This way, sir, if you please." 

" All right," said the old gentleman ; " that's all I 
wanted." 



CHAPTEKS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 47 



CHAPTEE 7 

THE SADDLE-BAGS TAKEN" UP. 

Just as the sun "was rising on a brilliant December 
morning, we were starting for a ride from Island Grove 
across the snow-clad prairie, seated in an open car- 
riage, wrapped in buffalo robes, facing the keen 
westerly wind, bearing away like mariners, seaward 
bound, the rearward timber receding until it looked, 
in truth, like an isle encompassed ty the endless 
reaches of the sea. One could hardly fail to be 
exhilarated even to the verge of intoxication. Away 
toward the north and south stretched the billowy 
land, unvaried by a single hill, unbroken by a 
solitary tree, until the blue sky stooped from the 
immeasurable height above our heads to the limit of 
the horizon, as if to kiss the earth ; and the earth, 
^prayed in vestal whiteness, seemed pure enough for 
heaven's caress. 

As the sun's rays reached the snow, the earth 
- seemed sown with emeralds, sapphires, and dia- 
monds. Before us, toward the west, rose the bare 
arms of a forest, yet as we drew nearer we saw they 



48 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



were not bare, but robed with raiment whiter than 
wool ; while from every sturdy bough and tender 
branch were pendent glittering and prismatic stalac- 
tites. Even the trunks of trees were covered with 
ice, and in the morning sunshine the woods seemed 
one vast palace, almost too dazzling to behold — -the 
work of an enchanter's spell. As we sped along 
there was no sound to break the solemn and nearly 
awful stillness, but the clatter of our horses' hoofs, 
and the monotonous whirl of the wheels. 

My companion was a tall, stalwart, weather-beaten 
man, venerable in aspect, and usually grave in de- 
meanor, almost to the point of constraint. He was- a 
profound thinker, an able theologian, and a powerful 
preacher of the Word. I loved him much, yet stood 
in no little awe of him by reason of the elevation 
and force of his intellect, and the sanctity of his 
character. I had a presentiment at starting which 
was oppressive, that he and I were to have a conver- 
sation that morning, which should perhaps color and 
affect all my after life. But the rapid motion, the 
stinging, yet inspiring air, and the splendid scene 
had raised me to a kind of ecstasy, when I was ^ 
once startled and subdued by the clear, yet com- 
manding voice of my companion, saying, " "William, 
did you ever feel that you were called to preach P 
It was a home question, but one I had hardly dared 
answer to myself. Is it not the teaching of Scrip- 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 49 



ture — is it not the faith of the church, that God him- 
self selects, calls, commissions and empowers his 
servants who are to cany his message to the world ? 
Is it right for any man to make choice of the 
ministry as a profession, in the same way, and from 
the same motives that he would adopt law, medicine, 
or science ? Dare any man take upon himself this 
office and ministry without the monition and sanction 
of the Holy Ghost? and before he be brave enough to 
assume the dread responsibility of the care of souls, 
must he not feel in agony of soul, " woe is me if I 
preach not the gospel ?" If we can be conscious of 
the warning voice of an inward monitor, if we can 
be conscious of the living influences of the divine 
Spirit, can we not be conscious and equally assured 
of the movement of that same Spirit, summon- 
ing us in the serene and prayerful hour of medita- 
tion, as in the fierce, hot struggle with self and 
secular desire, to " go and teach all nations, baptiz- 
ing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
and of the Holy Ghost?" 

Such, briefly stated, is the theory and belief of our 
denomination. 

I had indeed felt for years that this was to be my 
duty, to preach the gospel ; but I shrank from it with 
unutterable fear and dread. If an apostle could say 
"Who is sufficient for these things?" then how much 
more I ; so I stammered out as well as I might, the 

3 



50 



TE^T YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE : 0R 3 



answer that my venerated friend demanded, and the 
thoughts that assumed the form of doubts and diffi- 
culties to me — youth and inexperience, immaturity 
of mind, and incompleteness of education, and then 
want of vision. To all these things, and many more 
that need not be enumerated, my companion made 
reply, and urged me at once to adopt the course of 
obedience and duty. This I could not resolve to do, 
He said the fields were white unto the harvest,- but 
the laborers few. I said I could not go, at least, 
until I had graduated. 

In less than two months after this, my health 
was gone — my system seemed a wreck. Books 
were denied me, and now yon will understand 
why, in the languor of disease and feebleness, 
I had such hours of lonely wretchedness. It is a 
solemn ordeal when one ceases to be a youth — when 
he is to leave the shelter of his father's roof, and 
the pitiful tenderness of his mother, to take upon 
him the responsibilities of life, to make or to mar his 
own character, and in his own, the character of so 
many others. One instinctively shivers at the pros- 
pect of a wide strange world into which he mi^t 
venture without assurance of what may betide e 

Ardent as may be the hope of youth, there is 
strong likelihood that in this time it will be palsied, 
and that boding fear will take its place to tei] sad 
tales and to utter sadder prophecies. 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



51 



On the first of May I was mounted and off for a 
life of wandering. My horse, excepting his face and 
feet which were white, was black as a coal. He was 
a five-year-old, just broken to the saddle, full of 
fiery spirit and intelligence, frolicksome, but kindly ; 
disposed, like all horses and men, to play pranks and 
take liberties with those afraid of him, and willing 
only to submit to a rightful master. His late owner 
sold him because he had run away with him, and it was 
predicted that I, an unskillful horseman, whose chief 
feats had hitherto consisted in riding the preachers' 
horses to water, would not go far before being landed 
in the mire, if I escaped with an unbroken neck. 

My mother had made every provision that fore- 
sight or tenderness could suggest, for the comfort of 
my wayfaring. A pair of capacious saddle-bags 
was stuffed with books and clothes ; an overcoat,, 
infolding an umbrella, was strapped behind the 
saddle, and I was attired in a stout suit of blue jeans; 
my nether extremities were inclosed in leggings; 
my head was crowned with a skin cap, exchanged in 
the summer time for a Panama hat. It had been 
arranged that I was to travel with the license of an 
exhorter, in company with my venerated friend of 
the preceding conversation, the Rev. Peter Akers. 

'Further on, I shall try for the benefit of my unini- 
tiated readers, to explain some of the terminology 
and practical workings of the Methodist itinerancy, 



52 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE £ OR, 



but it is sufficient to state here that Dr. Akers was a 
presiding elder, and that, as such, \e had a sort of 
episcopal supervision over about a dozen charges, 
located within a circuit of near five hundred miles. 
It was his business to visit each of these once in 
three months, and preside over the conference of offi- 
cial members, to transact the ecclesiastical and finan- 
cial business, to hear appeal cases argued, to supervise 
the moral and ministerial character of the preachers, 
and by his superior weight and spiritual counsel to 
advance the cause. The elder and abler men were 
usually selected by the bishop for this responsible 
office, and among these in Illinois, Dr. Akers for 
learning, and power as a preacher, stood without a 
peer. It is true that his interest in his theme and the 
fervor of his feelings carried him to a length of dis- 
course only equalled by the Covenanters and the 
Puritans. I there frequently heard him " hold forth " 
for from three to five hours. But it must be said that 
the mass of his audience were usually so enchained 
that they would not have had the sermon a moment 
shorter. Occasionally, however, he would feel com- 
pelled to bestow a reminder upon some impatient 
hearer, and one night I heard him say to a man in the 
congregation who pulled out his watch and found the 
preacher had been speaking about two hours, "Put 
up your watch, sir, it is not time to go to bed yet.*" 
Report said, that at such times he would now and 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 53 

then get a reply which mightily tickled, if it did not 
edify the audiqpe. I have heard it told, but do not 
remember on what authority, that once when the 
services were protracted, an incorrigible sinner 
whose empty stomach had sounded a dinner-bell in 
his ears, got up to leave the house, when the 
preacher shouted out after him, " Stop, sir, I am not 
through yet." " Go on, sir," said the other, " I am 
just going to dinner, and will be back long before 
you are through." 

Away we trotted out of the town, and although 
the roads were heavy, the pace of our horses was 
good, so that by the time we had reached the edge 
of a five-mile prairie, I, an unpractised rider, began 
to be sore from the jolting. By this time it had com- 
menced to rain, so donning my overcoat I tried to raise 
the umbrella. But my fiery steed seemed to think 
such an article unworthy of the man that backed 
him ; away he went and away went the umbrella, 
and I never saw it again, nor did I ever attempt 
to use one again while riding the circuit. " Let 
him go," shouted my companion in a roar of laugh- 
ter. "Good bye." Off we sped in a headlong 
gallop, and when my charger seemed disposed to 
slacken his gait, I gave him the whip, nor did we 
change the break-neck gait until we reached the 
opposite timber, in a shorter time than men often rido 
five miles. He zxever ran away with me again. 



54 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



This little adventure brought my horse and me to 
the best possible understanding, an^om friendship 
"we grew to intimacy, for he w T as my companion in 
all my wayfarings through the West. Many a thou- 
sand miles has he borne me, and many a hymn have 
I sung, and many a sermon have I preached to him. 
Whenever he heard the sound of my voice at the 
commencement of such exercises, he would prick up 
his ears and seem to listen with the most intense 
attention, and I can say more for him than for some 
of my human auditors, to wit : that he never went to 
sleep wdiile I was discoursing. He appeared to 
appreciate my infirmity, and displayed the power 
and scope of instinct to an astonishing degree. In a 
country where bad bridges abounded, where streams 
had to be forded, where roads degenerated into 
bridle-paths, or even faint trails, where often there 
was no road at all, and wood craft and the points of 
the compass could be the only guides, he bore me by 
day and night through danger and difficulty, with a 
constancy of attention, and an unerring sagacity 
really wonderful. ]STo one of my readers who has 
ever owned and become attached to a valuable 
horse, will blame me for this tribute to my faithful 
charger. 

A ricle of two days and a half brought us- to our 
first appointment. The quarterly meeting was hel'd 
at a private house, as was frequently the case, 



CEAPTEE3 FEOM AN ATJTOBIOGEAPHY. 



55 



serving on such occasions tlie two-fold purpose of 
chapel and hotel. It was a double log cabin, with a 
door communicating between the two rooms, the 
women occupying one, the men the other, in both 
the uses to which the house was put. Seats for the 
congregation were provided by puncheon slabs rest- 
ing on four legs. The young people who could not 
find access to the house, would stand beneath the 
trees, or loll upon the grass. The congregation 
would come from fifteen to twenty miles around to 
enjoy the services. The exercises invariably began 
on Saturday at eleven o'clock, with a sermon from 
the presiding elder. In the afternoon the con- 
ference of official members was held ; in the even- 
ing the most available preacher was "put up," in 
the language of the country, and after this sermon 
an exhortation was usually delivered by some one 
else. 

At the close of the exercises the benches were 
carried out and replaced by shuck mattresses, skins, 
and blankets, the men making their own beds, so 
that in a little while, as you looked over the sleepy 
scene, by the ray of an expiring pine knot, you 
might well conceive it a stratum of compact somno- 
lent humanity. The first cockcrow is the signal for 
a universal arousing, and while some busy them- 
selves in taking up and packing away the beds, 
others bring wood, four or eight feet long, to kindlo 



56 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

a fire in the capacious fireplace, by which the break- 
fast may be cooked. Others, with shirt-sleeves 
rolled up and collars a la Byron, in the breaking 
dawn, trudge to the spring or well, where ablutions 
are performed. A substantial meal is dispatched, 
for it may be long before we taste food again. At 
eight o'clock the Sunday services begin by a love- 
feast, to which only members of the church are 
admitted. At eleven o'clock the doors are thrown 
open and the public enter. The ordinance of bap- 
tism precedes the sermon, the communion of the 
Lord's Supper follows it. On more than one occa- 
sion I have known it to be five o'clock before we 
tasted a mouthful after a sunrise breakfast. In the 
evening the last sermon of the quarterly meeting 
proper was delivered, and by daybreak the follow- 
ing morning all were riding off on their several 
ways. 

On the Saturday night in question, after the sei- 
mon, the sonorous voice of my chief said, " William, 
-exhort." The will of the presiding elder at these 
times is absolute, and obedience is one of the lessons 
enjoined upon young preachers. I had no resource 
but to stand up, frightened as I was almost to death, 
behind my split-bottom chair, in lieu of a pulpit, 
in front of the huge fireplace, and attempt to speak 
by the light of the smouldering embers and one or 
two candles fast sinking to their sockets, to tho 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 57 



crowd of hunters and farmers filling the cabin, who 
gaped and stared at a pallid, beardless boy. Of 
course words were few, and ideas fewer, and on 
resuming my seat I had the uncomfortable impres- 
sion, that that congregation had listened to about as 
poor a discourse as ever was delivered. Such was 
my first attempt at preaching. 

The interval between Monday and Saturday of 
each week, was generally spent in travelling a daily 
stage toward the next appointment, and preaching 
once or twice a day, and visiting the people on the 
road. "Wherever we stopped we were treated with 
the cordial hospitality for which the "West is pro- 
verbial. No matter what the time of day, food was 
produced and we were always urged to eat. This 
saying has passed into a wise saw, " that yellow- 
legged chickens (the largest and finest breed), know 
a Methodist preacher as far as they can see him, and 
that they no sooner behold one approaching than 
they squeak with terror, and betake themselves to 
the timber, knowing that their heads are in danger." 

At one of our meetings I met the happiest man, I 
think, that I have ever known. He was a bachelor, 
and a shoemaker, who worked half the time to 
support himself and horse, and attended meeting the 
other half. I cannot say much for the breadth of 
his intellect, the extent of his information, or the 
quality of his taste. His faith seemed to be un 

3* 



53 



TEX TEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE OR, 



clouded, and Ms soul was ever on the mountain-top. 
He was passionately fond of singing, and had a 
repertory of songs and tunes, all his own. I think 
you might have heard him half a mile off; I have 
been awakened at all hours of the night by the 
vociferous strains of this minstrel, and have seen him 
astride a bench see-sawing to and fro, slapping his 
hands and pouring forth his stentorian solo. Music 
seemed to be his meat, drink, and lodging. His 
favorite verse, self-made, no doubt, was the follow- 
ing : 

a I'd rather have religion, 
While here on earth I stay, 
Than to possess the riches 
Of all America. 

Chorus. 

Crying, victory, victory, 
I long to see that day." 

The rough and tumble life of the woods, the fare — 
repulsive at first, but made acceptable by sharp exer- 
cise end appetite — of hog, hominy, and corn bread, 
salexr&tus biscuit, and fried chicken (none of which I 
have been able to tolerate since) 3 as the season wore 
on,. began to give me flesh and color. 



CKAFIERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



59 



CHAPTER VI. 

"let no man despise thy youth. 5 ' 

My itinerating life was yet fresh when the two 
preachers from the Fancy Creek circuit visited one 
of our quarterly meetings; at its close they besought 
the presiding elder to lend me to them for a week's 
round, promising-to deliver me safe and sound at his 
appointment the next Saturday. He assented, and 
away I trotted with my new-made friends. Our first 
stopping-place was at a house much like the one be- 
fore described, where the senior joreacher was to 
solemnize a marriage. "We arrived at mid-day, and 
found a large company assembled — the future man 
and wife chatting gaily with their friends, as though 
the knot had been already tied. The ceremony was 
at once attended to, and the congratulations de- 
livered, when the company was summoned to the 
most sumptuous banquet that the region could 
afford. I wish I were versed in the technicalities of 
feminine attire, that I might favor my lady readers 
with a description of the dresses worn on this gala 
day, and a comical one it would be ; but, failing in 



60 



TE2T YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



this, I can only commemorate one incident that 
struct me at the time. A great bowl of boiled cus- 
tard was placed, with other delicacies, on the groan- 
ing board. A gentleman having hurried through 
with the more substantial part of the repast, seized 
the bowl and a tablespoon and commenced ingulfing 
the contents. A bystander, somewhat shocked at 
this private appropriation of what was designed for 
the community, remarked to him, " You don't seem 
to know what that is." 

" Know what it is !" responded the other, indig- 
nantly, " of course I do ; I was brought up on it — it 
is thickened milk." 

As we rode away, the preacher who had united 
the man and wife said to me, " Billy, what do you 
suppose that chap gave me for a fee ?" 

" I don't know," I replied. " Five dollars, I sup- 
pose." 

"He is a hog without bristles," was the strong 
metaphorical reply of the other ; " he didn't give me 
narry red." 

As we proceeded, he told me I should have to 
preach that afternoon at four o'clock, and he turned 
a deaf ear tc all my entreaties to be let off. Up to 
this time I had never taken a text, for all my exer- 
cises had been in the shape of exhortations, delivered 
after some more experienced person had expounded. 
My first sermon must be preached somewhere, and 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 6 J 

why not then and there? So it was delivered to half 
a dozen men in their shirt-sleeves, with the sweat of 
the plough on their brows, their teams left standing 
in the fields the while, and to as many women in 
sun-bonnets, whose knitting and pipes were laid 
aside when the hymn was given out. The rustle of 
the green leaves, stirred by the pleasant wind, the 
song of the birds, and the golden sunshine as it lay 
upon the puncheon floor on that cheerful summer 
afternoon, are remembered yet, and also that my first 
sermon was but fifteen minutes long. 

The next day we reached a village consisting of 
a dozen or twenty houses. In the evening we 
attended an examination of the school ; at the close 
of the exercises, one of my new friends mounted an 
empty barrel which stood in the comer of the room, 
and had been used as a seat, and called out in the 
old J^Torman form, " Oyez ! Oyez ! take notice that 
Brother "William Milburn will preach in the meeting 
house to-morrow night at early candle-lighting !" Xo 
sooner was the last word out of his mouth than the 
barrel-head gave way and the reverend clerk, falling 
to the earth, went after the fashion of Eegulus, roll- 
ing about among the legs of the audience, his despe- 
rate exertions to escape only making his plight the 
sadder and increasing: the confusion. 

Between the wheat harvest and the time for gather- 
ing corn, the farmers had a respite, and this (yclept 



62 



TEN YEARS OF PKEACHEE-LIEE ; OS, 



roasting-car time) was the season for camp meetings. 
Those who have attended them only in the neighbor- 
hood of large cities or in populous districts, -where 
they are apt to he a rendezvous for the idle, profane, 
and lewd, can form little notion of their impressive 
beauty and real usefulness in a new and thinly settled 
country. A grove of sugar maple or beech, with 
abundant springs and pasturage near at hand, is se- 
lected, and here the tents of canvas, logs, or weather- 
boards, are erected in the form of a parallelogram, 
inclosing from one to four acres. "Within this area, 
upon which ail the tents open, are arranged the 
seats, the altar, and the pulpit, or stand as it is 
called. Spaces for streets are left open at the four 
corners of the square. In the rear of each tent, a 
large, permanent table is erected; for the meeting is 
sacred to the rites of hospitality as well as of devo- 
tion. The tenters move into their temporary abodes 
on Thursday or Friday, and the religious exercises 
commence at once. 'A horn is blown about day- 
light as the signal for getting up ; after a while, it 
sounds for family prayers, and soon you may hear 
strains of song from every tent, celebrating the 
praise of Him who hath given the slumber and 
safety of the night. . The blast summons the people 
to the stand at eight and eleven, a.m., at three 
p.m., and again at early candle-lighting. The meet- 
ing continues from four to six days. It is a grand 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



03 



sight to behold several hundreds — sometimes swelled 
to thousands — of people gathered beneath the shadow 
of the green wood, worshipping in the oldest and 
noblest of cathedrals ; its aisles flanked by straight or 
twisted shafts springing from a verdant floor to a 
light, waving tracery unapproachable by man's poor 
art. The scene is one to furnish inspiration to the 
speaker, and to open for him the surest and swiftest 
access to the hearers' hearts. But it is at night that 
the ground wears its most picturesque appearance. 
From fire stands, placed at short distances over the 
encampment, heaps of blazing pine knots shed a bril- ( 
Kant light upon the assembly, and strive to illumine 
the dim, whispering vaults overhead, through which 
the stars, those candles of the Lord, may be seen [ 
blazing in their far distant sockets. Never have I 
been so moved by music, as when the great congre- 
gation have stood up on such a spot, and poured 
forth a hymn with one heart and voice. Truly was 
it like the voice of many waters. 

ISTo one can fully estimate the beneficent influences 
of these " feasts of Tabernacles," where the unsophis- 
ticated people of a new country are schooled and 
refined by the offices of hospitality, friendship, and 
devotion. Kot least among the good results, is the 
acquaintance with sacred poetry here acquired ; for 
introduced and commended by the strains of a lively 
and heart-stirring music, the best effusions of Mont- 



TE2T YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



gomery, Heber, Cowper, "Watts, and "Wesley, win 
their way to a lasting place in the affectionate 
remembrance of the motley crowd. It is quite won- 
derful to see how retentively poetry and Scripture 
are held in the memory of many of these plain and 
comparatively uneducated backwoodsmen. I have 
seen more than one preacher, who had, probably, 
never enjoyed the advantage of three months' school- 
ing, who, nevertheless, seemed to have at command 
a large portion of Milton's, Young's, and Cowpers 
poetical works, besides vast stores from other authors; 
and the citations from these, though often long, and 
sometimes not altogether appropriate, were keenly 
relished by the people. 

The stimulating quality of life in this fresh, unhack- 
neyed world, the constant and vivid play of the per- 
ceptions, the charm of variety and adventure, a first- 
hand acquaintance with nature, the action of sensi- 
bilities un chilled and almost unconscious, the use 
of words in their primary and oftentimes their strong- 
est signification, the effectiveness of fancy and imagi- 
nation, combine to produce a striking, and, some- 
times, astonishing style of popular eloquence. 

As I went the round of the district, with my 
venerable guide, philosopher, and friend, riding 
sometimes for whole days through almost limitless 
stretches of prairie, mueh time was spent in asking 
and answering questions concerning theology and 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 65 



kindred sciences, in which lie was profoundly versed. 
His full and satisfactory explanations in response to 
my eager queries, together with his exhaustive dis- 
courses delivered in public, afforded me a large store 
of material to digest and assimilate. The intimate 
association of the elder and younger men, the habit 
of constantly seeking and imparting instruction, and 
the urgent need for the immediate use of all informa- 
tion thus acquired, constitute a prominent feature of 
the mental discipline of the Methodist preachers. I 
have never known such strong bonds of sympathy 
and affection to unite men of any class as those 
which bind these brethren together. The healthful 
action of the sensibilities is always the best condition 
of mental growth. Love is the mightiest teacher. 
Tou can well fancy that the powers of the mind and 
heart will not be sluggish or inapt when you have 
the wide open universe, with the glowing sunshine 
or the glimmering starlight, the fathomless azure or 
the embattled clouds joining in the fierce din of the 
tempest above you, and the land all around arrayed 
in the luxuriant garb of summer-time ; when you 
have these for a seminary, a teacher by your side 
whom you both revere and love as a father and a 
friend, and a theme deep as life and solemn as eter- 
nity. Thus did the months glide by from May until 
September, the latter closing the conference year, 
when all the preachers gathered themselves together 



66 



TEST YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



for the transaction of their official business, and to 
receive at the hand of the bishop their " appoint- 
ments " for the next twelvemonth. 

This is, perhaps, the proper place for me to give 
some explanation of the machinery and internal 
working of Methodism, for the benefit of my unin- 
itiated readers. 

Persons are admitted to membership on trial in 
our societies, on profession of a desire " to flee from 
the wrath to come and to be saved from their sins." 
Twelve or more persons constitute a " class," one of 
whom is called a " leader." It is his business to see 
his members once a week, to inquire into their spirit- 
ual state, to counsel, reprove, admonish, or encourage 
them. At the close of the probation of six months, 
the candidate, if satisfied with the church, and a 
good report be made of him, is received into full 
membership. A person feeling himself moved to 
take upon himself the office and ministry of a teacher, 
makes this known to the preacher, who, if satisfied 
upon consultation with his leader and brethren, gives 
him a license to " exhort." Having made proof of 
his gifts, graces, and usefulness, in this capacity, he 
is called before the quarterly conference, a body 
composed of the presiding elder as chairman, the 
preachers on the circuit or station, the stewards (who 
have charge of the financial affairs connected with 
the ministry), and the class leaders. He is now to 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



67 



pass an examination as to his education, religious 
experience, and doctrinal views. If these be satis- 
factory, and. he has given promise of usefulness, he is 
recommended by the conference to the presiding 
elder as a proper person to have a license to preach, 
and that functionary furnishes him with the requisite 
authority. At the proper time, the same body fur- 
nishes the candidate a recommendation to the " An- 
nual Conference," desiring that he may be received 
on trial as a preacher in the travelling connection. 

The Annual Conference is composed of those 
preachers living within a given region of country, 
who receive their appointments from the bishop and 
their support from the church, and who devote them- 
selves exclusively to the ministry. The territory of 
the conference is divided into districts, the charge of 
which is given, as before stated, to presiding elders. 
The districts are subdivided into circuits and stations, 
the latter being towns or cities where one or more 
societies require the constant services of one or more 
pastors. . The former are rural districts, composed of 
from four to thirty or forty neighborhoods, in each 
of which the minister is to preach as often as cir- 
cumstances may allow, and they are technically 
styled in accordance with the frequency with which 
he is enabled to visit the appointments, one, two, 
three, four, or six weeks circuits. 

The business of the preachers in conference assem 



G8 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

bled, is to examine the intellectual, moral, and minis- 
terial character of each man, to receive candidates, 
and to make a report of the sums which they have 
received for the various benevolent undertakings of 
the church. At a proper time, the bishop, who is 
the presiding officer, asks the question : " Who are 
to be received on trial ?" When the presiding elders 
read the recommendations of the candidates, and 
make such statements concerning them as their 
acquaintance and opinions justify, and the men are 
then received or rejected by a vote of the conference. 
If he be received, the candidate must enter upon a 
four years' course of study, and be prepared to stand 
an examination every year at the conference. This 
curriculum embraces a wide range of literary and 
theological study, the rigor and effectiveness of the 
examination, be it said, being dependent on the char- 
acter and attainments of the examining committee. 
If he make full proof of his ministry, at the end of 
two years he is received into full connection — for 
hitherto he has been on trial — and ordained deacon. 
At the end of another period of two years, on the 
same condition, he receives ordination ,as an elder. 

During the session of the conference, the bishop 
who presides over its deliberations, holds a council 
every night with the presiding elders, who are 
called the members of his cabinet. Together they 
make out the appointments of the preachers for the 



CTIAPTEK3 FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 69 



ensuing year. All the other business having been 
attended to, the bishop closes the conference with a 
brief and pertinent address, with singing and prayer, 
and then by the announcement of the " appoint- 
ments,'' of which the preachers generally, until this 
moment, have remained in ignorance. 

Once in four rears, the members of the annual 
conferences elect delegates, according to a fixed 
ratio, to a " General Conference, 75 which is the legis- 
lature and high court of judicature of the church. 
To this body the bishops, who are elected by it, are 
amenable for their moral, ministerial, and executive 
conduct. Thus, then, this quadrennial synod causes 
the bishops to revolve regularly in their itinerant 
orbits. These, in turn, keep the thirty or forty 
annual conferences in regular rotation ; the presiding 
elders turn the quarterly conferences once in three 
months ; the preachers cause the revolution of the 
leaders and stewards once a month, and these the 
private members once a week. So that the machi- 
nery consists of a wheel within a wheel, and the 
ideal is that of perpetual motion. 



70 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



CHAPTEE VII. 

kfc BREAKING BREAD FROM HOUSE TO HOESE, THEY DID 
EAT TBEIR HEAT WITH GLADNESS AND SINGLENESS 
OF HEAPwT." 

At the time of which. I speak, the Illinois Con- 
ference embraced two-thirds of the State, and was 
composed of about 110 preachers. It was to sit at 
Quincy, two days' journey from my home. A party 
of four rigged out a two-horse wagon, in which we 
journeyed together. Two of the company were old 
preachers who had seen much service on the fron- 
tier. The third was a junior, a man full of electricity 
and humor. The way was shortened by the discus- 
sion of many grave and knotty points, and by the 
recital of many a story. One or two of these may 
shed light upon the primitive state of society on the 
border, and afford a notion, of the varied experiences 
of the early Methodist itinerants. 

One of our old preachers, the Eev. S. H. Thomp m 
Bon, was travelling a circuit in Tennessee at an early 
day. He was invited to cross the mountains and 
visit a settlement where a preacher had never been. 
The entire population turned out to give him a 
hearty welcome, and to hear his message. In the 



JHAPTEKS FliOM AN AUTOBIOG-RAPITX . 



71 



midst of his discourse, a man rode up to the edge of 
the assembly and alighted ; whereupon, every man, 
woman and child in the congregation rushed to the 
new-comer to ash and hear the news. One of the 
party, with an encouraging look and gesture to the 
preacher, saying, " Go on, parson, we'll all be back 
directly." In due time they returned, and Mr. 
Thompson proceeded with his sermon. At its close, 
he called on an extorter who had accompanied 
him to the place, to pray. The brother's spirit 
was willing but his flesh was weak, for he had a 
great boil on his right knee. The audience beheld 
his energetic yet ludicrous attempt to put himself 
in the proper posture ; when one of the bystand- 
ers, a good-natured giant, touched with compassion, 
stepped forward and lying flat on his face, said : 
" Here, brother, kneel on me." The extorter ac- 
cepted the living stool, and becoming much excited 
in the course of his prayer, would often raise himself 
up and then come down with emphatic force on the 
back of his prostrate friend. At the close of the 
lengthy supplication, the latter rose, and shaking 
himself, exclaimed: "First-rate prayer, weren't it? 
— a little long, though." 

One of our beloved bistops, tte Rev. Ttomas A. 
Morris, when a young man, was travelling some- 
where in the "West, and left an appointment to 
preach in a neighborhood little frequented by the. 



72 



TEN TEAES OF PEEACHEE-LEFE J OR, 



ministry. Due notice was given, and a large com- 
pany assembled. The service was to be held in a 
double log-cabin with, a porch, in front. The men 
were gathered in one room, the women in the other, 
and the boys on the porch. The preacher stood in 
the door. As he proceeded, a couple of men in the 
congregation began to whisper, and at length spoke 
so loud that all the congregation could hear them ; 
the theme of their discourse being a horse-swap. 
The preacher paused and said, that as it was bad 
manners for more than one to speak at a time, if it 
were necessary for them to bring their trade to a 
conclusion on the spot, he would stop until they had 
finished. They were silent, and he resumed, when 
an officious old gentleman came bustling through the 
crowd with a split-bottomed chair raised high above 
his head, and placing it in front of the preacher, 
said : " I forgot you had no pulpit ; a man can't 
preach without a pulpit ; here is one." The preacher 
began again, but was soon interrupted by the noise 
made by the boys in the porch, quarrelling. This 
was promptly quelled by the old gentleman's strid- 
ing among the urchins, cuffing and boxing them 
soundly, and shouting, " Be still, you little savages, 
or I'll knock your heads off." Order restored, the 
preacher tried to go on again, but now there came a 
noise from the female side of the house. A boy four 
or five years old, who was seated in his mother's lap. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



73 



was engaged in earnest whispering with her. He 
said, " J\±amniy, mammy," and she, " Hush !" At 
length he seemed to think that endurance had ceased 
to be a virtue, and bawled out, " I say, mammy, 
scratch my back." She, in fiery indignation, boxed 
his ears soundly ; whereat, he set up a terrible yell. 
She rose, and dragging her promising offspring after 
her, forced her way among the auditors, rushed by 
the preacher in the door, and at once began the satis- 
factory operation of trouncing, she shouting " hush l n 
and he, " I won't — scratch my back !" This last 
attack was too much for the preacher's equanimity, 
and the excited state of his risibles obliged him to 
close the services on the instant. 

"With abundant store of such reminiscences and 
anecdotes, we beguiled the tedious way. As the even- 
ing of the first day closed upon us, we reached a ham- 
let where we were hospitably lodged at the house of a 
brother in the church. Our host was from Connecti- 
cut, and began at once to importune our elders for a 
sermon to the people that evening, promising them 
a congregation of as many souls as K*oah had in the 
ark. But they declined, pleading fatigue as an 
excuse, saying, however, " Here are the boys, either 
of them will preach." 

""What, them?" said our landlord, contempt- 
uously ; " do you suppose the people in these parts 
would come out to hear such younkers hold forth?" 

4 



74 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

u Ffl tell you what, Billy, " said my junior friend, 
as lie went to the stable to put up the horses ; " that 
fellow's got no more manners than a bear. It's my 
opinion that he came to this country peddling tin- 
ware and wooden nutmegs. I reckon the time will 
come when they'll be glad to hear us as well as 
Uncle Peter and Jonathan." 

To know what the pleasures of conference are, a 
man must have been a western Methodist preacher. 
A life of incessant toil, privation, hardship, and 
poverty, borne bravely and cheerfully for a single 
sublime object, breeds a unity of feeling 2nd a 
warmth of affection not elsewhere equalled. Like 
the early Christians, they regard themselves as the 
soldiers of the cross ; and the militant sentiment is 
strengthened by their out-door life, and their fre- 
quent exposure to danger. ISTo dragoons are better 
horsemen, or are more in the saddle. They delight 
to describe life as a warfare, death as the last conflict 
wherein the Christian places his foot upon the neck 
of his last adversary, and with a shout of victory 
rises to the scene of a triumphant coronation. One 
of their favorite hymns commences : 

" Soldiers of Christ, arise, 
And put your armor on, 
Strong in the strength which God supplies 
Through his eternal Son." 

Indeed, there is very much in the sacred lyrics of 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



75 



Charles Wesley to nourish this martial spirit. The 
coming together of the preachers at conference is, 
therefore, much like the gathering of an army after 
a campaign. Old friendships are strengthened, old 
associations vivified. Trials and triumphs are re- 
counted, and messages are brought from one and 
another brother who has died during the year, or, as 
they are accustomed to say, " fallen in the field with 
his face Zionward." "Tell my brethren at the con- 
ference," said one of these saintly warriors, cc that I 
died at my post." The conference, which lasts 
about a week, is, in truth, a feast of reason and a 
flow of soul. The preachers are billeted upon the 
members of the church and other citizens who are 
willing to entertain them. And the season is ever 
one of open-handed hospitality. And outside of busi- 
ness hours, the order of the day is good cheer, story- 
telling, friendly chat — in a word, the comfort and 
delight of body and soul. Here they are a band of 
toil-worn veterans and eager young soldiers, mar- 
tialling for review, and the enjoyment of the one 
week's holiday for the year. Their salary is a hun- 
dred dollars per annum, and many of them have 
received not more than one-third or one-half that 
sum ; but from the manner and amount of their 
offerings to the various benevolent institutions of the 
church, you would suppose them wealthy men. Let 
.a story be told of a brother having lost his horse, aud 



76 TEH YEARS OF PREACHER -LIFE OR, 

having no money to buy another, many a man will 
instantly surrender his last cent to purchase a new 
one. The widows and orphans of deceased brethren 
are ever remembered out of the scanty stock. The 
esprit de corps could not be stronger, yet personal 
independence and self respect are defended as sacred 
rights. 

I must describe one of these men, the Rev. "Wilson 
Pitner, familiarly known among his associates as 
Wils Pitner. Swarthy as an Indian, he was lithe and 
strong as one. Born and bred upon the border, he 
was thoroughly versed in the whole range of wood- 
craft. He could pick a squirrel's eye with rifle-ball 
at a hundred yards, or guide you with unerring pre- 
cision across an untracked prairie. £To trapper was 
more skilled in snaring the muskrat and otter, and 
his line from the flowery meads, where the bee col- 
lected his honied sweets, to the hive in the hollow 
tiee where they were stored, was as true as the 
insect's own. Books had done little for him, but 
nature had taught him many a lesson, deep and long. 
With a powerful voice, capable of almost every 
modulation, a brilliant eye, a vivid nature, and 
a soul deeply in earnest, he would sometimes pour 
forth torrents of fiery eloquence that no htaian sen- 
sibilities could withstand. Let him have " liberty 73 
as it was styled — or to employ its equivalent, let him 
" swing clear " in a treatment of a subject with which. 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 77 

he was familiar, technically called " a sugar stick," — . 
and not Christmas Evans, the great "Welsh orator, 
could surpass him in the power of his popular 
appeals. It could not be expected that his exposi- 
tions would always be as correct as they were inde- 
pendent. He once said, " My brethren, the Apostle 
Paul declares that faith cometh by hearing, and Mr. 
Wesley says so too ; but I take liberty of differing 
from both these gentleman. I knew a man once 
who was so deaf that he could not hear the loudest 
thunder, and he had more faith than anybody I ever 
saw. ITow, did his faith come by hearing?" He 
was subject to fits of great depression. On recover- 
ing from one of these, a friend asked him how he 
felt on coming out of the fog and gloom. " Feel I" 
he exclaimed, " why, as if my soul were running 
horse-races in the grand prairie of divinity.' 5 In 
preaching, he once said : " I look upon myself as less 
than the least of all saints ; and when I hear the 
great sermons preached by the presiding elders and 
bishops, I feel so badly about my own ignorance and 
weakness that I think I will never open my lips 
again. But I take courage when I remember what 
the Bible says : ' Not by might, nor by power, but by 
my spirit, saith the Lord. 5 We have this 4 treasure in 
earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may 
be of God and not of us.' I have been riding through 
the woods, before now, and seen a poor little grape- 



78 TEN TEAKS OF PKEACHEK-LIFE J OK, 

vine that had crawled along the earth to the roots of 
a big tree, and with its feeble tendrils was holding on 
and trying to climb up the sides of the mighty 
monarch of the forests. Then I have seen another 
vine, as big around as a man's arm, and lifting its 
head far in the light it stood as noble and stately as 
if it had been a tree itself. But if you look close, 
you would see that it still leaned for support to 
the branches of the tree, and that its arms still clung 
to the mighty giant. It had climbed up as the little 
one was now trying to do ; and strong as it now 
seemed, if it were to let go only for a moment, it 
would fall and be snapped in pieces, its strength and 
protection, like the hope and promise of the little one, 
is the tree. So," he continued, " frail and weak as 
I am, I still strive to cling to that tree, on which all 
the great ones of the earth must rest, and without 
which they are nothing ; a tree whose roots underlie 
all things — whose trunk is the strength of the uni- 
verse, its branches are the heavens, its blossoms 
are the stars ; its whispering breath is the joy of 
souls redeemed, but its shadow is the night of the 
damned." 

Into the companionship of such men was I received 
as a preacher on trial in the travelling connection of 
the Methodist Episcopal Church on the day that I 
completed my twentieth year. Eight heartily was 
the right hand of fellowship given by the brave and 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



79 



hardy band of pioneer preachers whose confidence 
and esteem I coveted more than that of generals and 
kings. 

The last scene of the conference is one peculiarly 
touching and solemn. A hundred men, many of 
them married, have surrendered their right of choice, 
and placed their lives and fortunes, under God, at 
the disposal of a single man — the bishop. He, with 
the wisdom of an overseer, with the simplicity and 
sincerity that spring from the abiding consciousness 
that his motives and decisions are ever in the great 
Taskmaster's eye, and with all a father's tenderness 
for the preachers and the people intrusted to him— 
he has considered the claims of the men and of the 
work, and is now to read the weighty decision. At 
his word they are to go forth to their fields of duty 
and of danger, accepting his arbitrament as the 
interpretation of providence. "Whither they are to 
go they know not, nor what shall betide them ; only 
of this are they persuaded, that a life of voluntary 
poverty and hardship awaits them, and, probably, a 
home in some pestilential river bottom, or in a region 
where fever stalks as a strong man armed. Never- 
theless, " the love of Christ constraineth them," and 
they count not their lives dear unto themselves so that 
they may finish their course with joy, and the minis- 
try which they have received of the Lord Jesus, to 
testify the gospel of the grace of God. Most of them, 



80 TEN YEAJRS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

are vigorous, robust, and athletic, yet it is almost 
certain that they "will all never look upon each other's 
faces again until they stand upon Mount Zion in the 
general assembly and church of the first-borit, which 
are written in heaven. The prayer has been offered 
which commends them and their families to God 
and to the word of his grace, which is able to build 
them up and to give them "an inheritance among all 
them which are sanctified;" and in the midst of a 
profound silence the bishop reads out the appoint- 
ments. A new year has begun, the week's holiday 
is over. Hands are shaken, farewell is said, and ere 
an hour has passed most of the men are on the road 
to their new posts. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 81 



CHAPTER Till. 

BRUSH COLLEGE. 

As lie was reading, the bishop had announced " Win- 
chester circuit — Norman Allen, William H. Milburn." 
"The work" embraced Scott county, lying on the 
eastern side of the Illinois River sixty or seventy 
miles above its month. There were about thirty 
preaching places ; a few of them chapels, more log 
schoolhouses, but the greater number were private 
dwellings. It required four weeks to make the round, 
a ride of nearly three hundred miles, and demanding 
on an average a sermon a clay. After the public 
duties of the ministry are performed, it is expected 
that the preacher shall meet the members of the 
society in private, and converse with each one on 
his spiritual concerns. In his twelve or thirteen 
rounds during the year, if he be a man of active and 
enterprising habits, he will almost inevitably make 
the acquaintance of every man, woman and child in 
the county, and break bread at the tables of the 
great majority of the hospitable householders. The 
4* 



82 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

school of human nature thus opened to him, the con- 
stant free and easy intercourse with all classes and 
conditions of persons will teach the man of open 
mind many a lesson of invaluable knowledge and 
wisdom : so that while his opportunity for the study 
of books may be small, a rich compensation is 
afforded him in this first-hand acquaintance with men 
and life. A new country demands courage, decision, 
self-reliance, habits of keen and sleepless observation, 
a fertility of resources and a versatile employment 
of various powers to suit changing occasions, and 
the various well defined characters you meet. Tou 
must have eyes and ears, hands and feet, an 
unshaken fortitude, and a will to turn your hand to 
anything that is honest and of good report. The 
terms of tuition in Brush College and Swamp Uni- 
versity are high, the course of study hard, the 
examinations frequent and severe, but the schooling 
is capital. 

I shall never forget a word of wholesome counsel 
given me by an old preacher, as I was starting in 
my new career: "Billy, my son, never miss an 
appointment. Eide all day in any storm, or all 
night if necessary, ford creeks, swim rivers, run the 
risk of breaking your neck, or getting drowned, but 
never miss an appointment, and never be behind 
the time." 

This same veteran had rather an odd way of mafe 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 83 



ing the young preacher at home in his house. 
" Now brother," he would say, " yonder are the 
stable and corn-crib for your horse ; here is a room 
and a plate for yourself; but if I ever catch you 
making sheeps' eyes at my girls, remember there's 
the door, and never enter it again. One woman in a 
family is enough for the wife of a Methodist preacher. 
It is hard for us, but a heap harder for them." 

Among Mr. Wesley's characteristic rules for the 
government of the young preachers are the follow- 
ing ; and to these, as far as practicable, it was 
expected we should yield unswerving obedience : 

1. Be diligent. Never be unemployed a moment ; 
never be triflingly employed. Never while away 
time ; neither spend any more time at any place 
than is strictly necessary. 

2. Be serious. Let your motto be, holiness to the 
Lord. Avoid all lightness, jesting and foolish talk- 
ing. 

3. Converse sparingly and cautiously with women, 
particularly with young women, in private. 

4. Take no step toward marriage, without first 
acquainting us with your design. 

5. Believe evil of no one ; unless you see it done, 
take heed how you credit it. Put the best construc- 
tion upon everything ; you know the judge is always 
supposed to be on the prisoner's side. 



84 TEN YEAPwS OF PEEACHEE-LIFZ j 

6. Speak evil of no one ; else your word, especi- 
ally, would eat as doth a canker. Keep your 
thoughts within vour own breast, till you come to 
the person concerned. 

7. Tell every one what you think wrong in him. 
and that plainly, and as soon as may be, else it will 
fester in your heart. Hake all haste to cast the fire 
out of yonr bosom. 

8. Do not affect the gentleman. You liave no 
more to do with this character than with that of a 
dancing-master. A preacher of the gospel is the 
servant of all. 

9. Be ashamed of nothing bnt sin ; not of fetching 
wood (if time permit;, or of drawing water ; not of 
cleaning your own shoes, or your neighbor's. 

10. Be punctual. Do everything exactly at the 
time ; and in general do not mend our rules, but 
keep them; not for wrath, but for conscience' sake. 

11. You have nothing to do but to save souls. 
Therefore spend and be spent in this work. And go 
always not only to those who want you, but to those 
who want you most. 

12. Act in all things not according to your own 
will, but as a son in the gospel. As such it is your 
part to employ your time in the manner which we 
direct; partly in preaching and wishing the flock 
from house to house ; partly in reading, meditation 
and prayer. Above all, if you labor with us in our 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 85 



Lord's vineyard, it is needful that you should do 
that part of the work which we advise, at those 
tim'es and places which we judge most for his 
glory. 

Minding these things, and walking by these rules, 
the frontier preacher, however arduous and manifold 
his toils, could redeem a portion of every day, for 
the study of good books ; and as it was one of his 
duties to carry his saddle-bags full of them, that he 
might dispose of them to his parishioners, he ever 
had a library near at hand. Hunger is the best 
sauce for food. Crowded dainties and groaning 
boards seldom yield the most satisfying repast. A 
hearty appetite will make homely fare more agreea- 
ble, delicious, and serviceable than all that French 
cookery can clo for the palate of the dyspeptic gour- 
mand. To most men the multitudinous array of a 
great library is like the surfeit of a feast, and exces- 
sive reading for reading's sake alone will as surely 
produce an overloaded or paralyzed memory and 
mental indigestion, as a continued indulgence in the 
pleasures of the table, will issue in plethora and 
gout. Books yield the most exquisite enjoyment to 
him who rises early and sits up late, and eagerly 
snatches every instant that can be taken from more 
pressing affairs for increasing his acquaintance 
with them. The delight of a traveller in the wil- 



86 



TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OE, 



dern.ess as lie reaches the cooling shade and refresh- 
ing spring, is only equalled by the joy of the earnest 
student who redeems brief intervals from daily toil 
for communion with his beloved oracle. 

That reading is most valuable which is pursued 
with a definite object; and knowledge is beneficial 
as it can be assimilated. The mind grows by use ; 
and its finest powers are called into play by the 
demand for public speaking at once premeditated 
and yet improvised. The effort of the mind to pro- 
ject and crystallize thought in language, if faithfully 
performed, must tend to increase the force and 
clearness of the mind itself. A man's culture is 
broader and better when sought not for himself 
alone, but also for the benefit of others : with their 
wants as well as his own in his eye. The truth, by 
which a man converts his fellow, acquires new lustre 
and glory for the man himself. The preaching of 
Christ crucified, though it be to the Jews a stum- 
bling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness, is to them 
that believe, the power of God and the wisdom of 
God. The pulpit for the man who occupies it. may 
be the noblest seminary ever erected. The sub- 
limity of its themes, their awful yet beautiful rela- 
tions, the majesty with which they invest every 
human soul and the grandeur which they attach to 
the issues of life, cannot fail, if truly believed, to 
impart a masculine vigor to the intellect as well as a 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 87 

divine' benediction to the heart. It is a theatre 
where scope is found for every faculty, and use for 
every endowment. It is an altar where memory 
may heap its treasured offerings, and the divinely 
kindled imagination may consume them with its 
lambent flame of radiance and the odor of a sweet 
incense. "Well might the simple platform on which 
an Athanasius, a Basil, an Ambrose, or an Augustine 
stood, expand itself into the bright consummate 
flower of human art. What are those most trium- 
phant exhibitions of genius, the cathedrals wrought 
by the devout builders and masons of the middle 
ages, those piles whose 

" High embowered roof, 
With antique pillars massy proof, 
And storied windows richly dight, 
Casting a dim religions light" — 

"What are they but becoming shrines for the pulpits, 
where a Saint Bernard of Clairvaux, or a Saint Francis 
might stand to stir the hearts of the people as with 
the sound of* a trumpet? When such men as the 
golden-mouthed John of Antioch, and George White- 
field occupy it, what throne of earth can equal the 
pulpit in ascendency over .the thoughts and affec- 
tions of mankind? When the people look up and 
listen to such men as Robert Hall and William 
Archer Butler, it is with them as with Hermon, on 



88 TEN YEARS* OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

which, the clew descended, refreshing every living 
plant, and reviving them that were ready to perish. 
Human nature assumes its finest prerogative when 
engaged in earnest manly speech, reproving the 
wrong-doer, inciting the indolent, encouraging the 
faint-hearted, and soothing the weary and broken in 
spirit ; it reaches its loftiest height of dignity when 
it stands as an ambassador for Christ. 

My first round upon the circuit began in that most 
gorgeous season of the year, the Indian summer. 
The rich, mellowed sunshine stole lazily through the 
softening haze that filled the atmosphere, crowning 
corn-fields and orchards and prairies with a golden 
glory unparalleled at any other time. The groves 
girt with the brave pomp of the changing leaf, 
seemed to have borrowed the splendor of the rain- 
bow to wear it as a scarf. The warm dreamy days 
were followed by chill lengthening nights, which were 
illumined by magnificent spectacles, visible only in 
the wild West. When the hand of the frost has done 
its first work in the fall of the year, scathing and 
blasting the long grass of the prairies, rendering it 
dry and combustible as tinder, the settlers, following 
the example of the Indians, are accustomed to fire 
it, not so much now for the sake of the game, as 
from the notion that the conflagration will enrich 
the next summer's crop of grass. As your road 
skirts the edge of the timber, amid the deepening 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 89 



shades of tlie twilight, you see a single fiery column 
rising, far out in the sea of blighted verdure. 
From a column it changes to a pyramid of flame. 
The wind rises, the pyramid is transformed into a 
legion of fiery serpents, that writhe, and leap, and 
dart onward, their heads high in air, waving and 
bending forward, then tossing themselves erect as if 
preparing for a new and more desperate spring. An 
embattled host of dragons, panoplied with a mail 
almost too bright to look upon, bannered with 
wreathed folds of smoke like breathings of the pit, 
their errand seems to be the destruction of the 
world. They are swift as the fleetest horse, and 
their sound is like the sweep of the tempest. The 
dragons disappear, and in their place stands a wall 
of fire, stretching across the plain from one verge of 
the horizon to the other, a wall whose presence is- 
the touch of death to every living thing. The next 
day, your way lies by the side of a waste, apparently 
boundless as the ocean, black as the waters of Ache- 
ron, and canopied with clouds of smoke. 

Usually I had the escort of a friend from one appoint- 
ment to the next, that my horse and I, between us, 
might learn the way. Rising early in the morning, 
breakfasting for six or seven months in the year by 
candlelight or the blaze of " pine-knots," the meal 
having always been preceded by reading or reciting a 
chapter from the Bible, singing and prayer, we were 



90 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

prepared to enter upon the duties of the day with 
the rising of the sun. My noble " Charley " was 
always attended to, fed, curried and brushed, with 
scrupulous care. From one to three hours were 
then passed in study, and then to horse for the 
preaching place of the day. A ride of from five to 
twenty miles brought me to this by noon. In busy 
seasons of the year, when the people were engaged 
in ploughing, planting, harvesting, or gathering 
corn fodder, a week-day congregation would some- 
times consist of three or four aged sisters. Trotting 
gaily along toward the end of his ride, the young 
preacher would overtake two or three of these matrons 
engaged in quiet discourse, knitting and smoking as 
they walked on their way to the meeting. Spring- 
ing to the ground, there is a cordial shaking of hands 
all round, and followed by the horse, he trudges 
along with them to the log cabin, where the services 
are to take place. The weather, the health of their 
families, each member being asked after by name, 
the news of the neighborhood, the state or prospect 
of the crops, and the condition of the church are all 
discussed, until they reach their destination. 

The preacher hastens to the stable to "put up" his 
horse, and then with saddlebags on arm approaches 
the house, where the good wife stands in the door to 
greet him. There is another shaking of hands and 
another dish of chat, until the hour appointed, when 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



91 



he withdraws from the spacious fireplace and after a 
brief meditation commences the service. Hymns, 
prayers and sermon are gone through as faithfully 
as if the congregation were composed of a thousand. 
His morning study and ride have furnished him 
material and opportunity for reflection. He has 
thrown his thoughts into the best order he could 
and now interprets them as he is best able. With 
the floor for a rostrum and his chair for a desk, he 
may draw as close to his auditors as he pleases ; and 
in the urgent warmth of his appeals he will some- 
times find himself gesticulating just under their 
spectacles and noses. If he has succeeded to their 
satisfaction, he may hear his motherly auditors, as 
they take their pipes from the chimney-corner at the 
close of the exercises, saying to one another: "Our 
young preacher is a powerful piert.' "Little fel- 
low, isn't he ?" This translated into the polite phrase- 
ology of the city means "eloquent sermon!" "pro- 
found discourse !" " able and masterly argument !" 

"While dinner is preparing at the hearth by which 
they are seated, the good dame brings out from 
underneath the bedstead, her only cupboard, a tin- 
cup full of nicely frosted persimmons or some other 
delicacy, and presents them to her young favorite. 
The dinner of " hog, hominy and pone," or of fried 
chicken and saleratus biscuit, to which is added a 
cup of "seed-tick" coffee, is disposed of: and the 



92 TEN TEAKS OF PHEACHEK-LIFE J OR, 

remainder of the day is passed in study, and in 
visits to the neighbors. At night-fall, all hands 
gather home from their work ; and after a substantial 
meal, a general talk, and evening prayers, all get 
ready for bed. Mattresses are spread upon the floor 
and eight, ten, or twenty people, old and young, 
male and female, stow themselves away under cover 
in one room; how, I never could precisely tell. 
Sometimes there is a kind of loft, where amid all 
sorts of odds and ends, broken tools, strings of 
onions, piles of potatoes — a bed i's made for the 
young divine. I think, however, that I preferred 
the sleeping down stairs ; for in the upper apartment 
I have often been covered by the snow, or drenched 
by the rain, which descended upon me through open- 
ings in the roof. The sermon studied and preached 
to-day, is tried again to-morrow, and repeated the 
third day; and thus one well-prepared discourse is 
ready for Sunday, when the congregations are much 
larger. The other three working-days of the week, 
will furnish the preacher with a second sermon. 
Language is the test of thought. What you really 
know you can tell ; and there is no better training 
for a young minister, than daily preaching in log- 
cabins and school-houses. 

A prominent divine of another denomination, 
meaning to be slightly sarcastic, once said to my 
old friend Mr. Cartwright : " How is it that you have 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 93 

no doctors of divinity in your denomination?" 
" Our divinity is not sick and don't need doctor- 
ing," said the sturdy backwoodsman. Assuming a 
graver tone, lie then said : " Tell me how it is, that 
you take so many men from the plough-tail, the forge 
and the carpenter's shop, and in a few years make 
excellent preachers of them, without sending them 
to college or theological seminary ?" — " "We old ones 
tell the young ones all we know, and they try to tell 
the people and keep on trying till they can ; that's 
our college course," was the answer. 

Sunday's work was the hardest of the week, for it 
was frequently necessary to preach three times, to 
lead three classes, and to ride from thirty-five to 
forty miles. 

There was work enough of all sorts to be done. 
The voice to be drilled to an easy obedience, and the 
development of all its tones. Large portions of the 
Bible and hymn-book must be committed to memory, 
for all my reading in public had to be done by rote. 
Fresh stores of knowledge for daily use had to be 
added daily. I had to learn all the roads and near 
cuts, the landmarks, bridges, and fords, as well as 
the names of all the men, women and children in 
the circuit ; and besides, not the least difficult of 
the lessons, was to learn to eat anything, every- 
thing, and sometimes to do without eating at all: 
to learn to sleep in any place and every place, with 



94: TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OE, 

or without beds and covering; and to ride all day 
wet to the skin, and then get up in the evening and 
preach without changing niy clothes. 

To my other labors were added those of a choris- 
ter ; for it often happens that there is not a man or 
woman in the congregation that can or will start a 
tune. It is not pleasant to be reduced to the strait 
of an old parson, that I once heard of, who in giving 
out his hymn said : "I would thank some brother 
present to raise the tune, and then tote it. 55 A dead 
silence ensued. It was at length broken by a mem- 
ber of the congregation, saying : " I reckon you'll 
be dreadful sharp, if you trap anybody here in that 
way." I therefore armed myself with three tunes — 
a long, short and common metre ; and when there 
threatened to be a "flash in the pan," from the musi- 
cal inability of my audience, I would fire away with 
one of these. But unfortunately, sometimes I would 
pull a trigger and the wrong barrel would go off, 
and great was my confusion time and again at hitch- 
ing a long metre tune to short metre words. 

Sometimes days were passed in a solitude as deep 
and unbroken as that of the African deserts. Un- 
der such conditions, a man must be on prodigiously 
good terms with himself, or have a vast deal to think 
about and observe, or he will occasionally be tired 
of his own company. Fcr such times, however, I 
usually had an unfailing resource in my Bible and 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



95 



hymn-book ; checking my horse until I had spelled 
out a verse, I started again and trotted along until 
this was firmly fixed in the memory. This operation, 
repeated for hours together, week after week, will be 
likely to cultivate a man's powers of recollection, 
and furnish him with an ample store of sacred and 
lyrical language ; when the mind wearied of this, 
new occupation was found in exploding the radical 
sounds of speech, or, "barking" as college-boys call 
it. This was followed up by practising the articula- 
tion of the most difficult words in the language. 
Then all the faculties would be summoned, for the 
composition and delivery of a discourse, in the hear- 
ing of my faithful charger, who listened with unflag- 
ging interest. My lonely wayfarings were now and 
then cheered by the companionship of an older and 
more experienced preacher friend; who would come 
to take a week or two's round and to preach with me 
" time about." One of these in whom I greatly de- 
lighted and who afforded me endless entertainment, 
by the variety of his knowledge, as well as by the 
singularity of his expressions, must have, if not a 
description, at least a passing mention. From his 
youth he had been a voracious reader and was 
thoroughly booked in all the standards, especially of 
theology and poetry. It was evident that in his 
early life, his study of Johnson had only been 
equalled by his admiration of him. His style had 



96 



TEX TEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



been moulded by that of the great lexicographer ; 
and I suppose that the Johnsonian manner has 
never been carried to a higher pitch, than by my 
friend. His sermons were most elaborately pre- 
pared, and delivered with the greatest fluency and 
unction. He poured forth. Ms sonorous periods with 
the most weighty seriousness ; yet I confess that I 
have not always been able to repress a smile when I 
have heard him utter a periphrase of this kind : 
"The small particle of the aqueous fluid which 
trickles from the visual organ over the lineaments 
of the countenance, betokening grief." Riding into 
his yard once, in company with a friend, intending to 
breakfast with him, we were thus hospitably saluted : 
" Brethren, how are you ? Alight, and allow me to 
conduct your quadruped through the orifice, erected 
for ingress and egress into the stabulatory depart- 
ment, in order that he may obtain somewhat of the 
herbiferous and graniferous wherewith to sustain his 
strength ; while ye yourselves shall tarry until ye have 
partaken of aliment furnished by the females in the 
domicil, and having attended to sanctimonious exer- 
cises go on your way rejoicing." The meal having 
been prepared, it was announced in this wise : 
" Come, friends, bites are about to be distributed." 

The following is attributed to him, but with what 
correctness I cannot state ; it is certainly character- 
istic of his merry moods : An old man engaged in 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 97 

emitting dense volumes of tobacco smoke from an 
old pipe, until the atmosphere of the apartment be- 
came oppressive and sickening, was thus politely 
and humorously addressed: "Venerable sir, the 
afiumegation arising from the deleterious effluvia 
emanating from your tobaccoistic reservoir, so over- 
shadows the organistic power of our ocular, and so 
abflustrates our atmospheric validity that our apparat. 
must shortly be obtuned, unless through the abundant 
suavity of your eminent politeness you will disem- 
bogue the aluminous tube of the stimulating and ster- 
nutatory ingredient that replenishes its concavity." 

A man of quenchless zeal and indefatigable indus- 
try, he abounded in labors, preaching constantly 
while he supported himself by his farm. 

From the communings of these friendly journeys, 
we derived not only profit and pleasure, but also 
scraps of intelligence concerning our brethren in 
distant quarters. One of these was as follows : A 
young man in my position, as a helper in his first 
year, was complained of at his quarterly conference ; 
to the effect first, that he could not preach; second, 
that he was attentive to all the girls around the cir- 
cuit; and third, that he was constantly engaged in 
swopping horses. Li defending himself he stated 
first, that he knew as well as any of them that he 
could not preach, and he was sure it did not trouble 
them as much as it did him ; second, that they need 

5 



98 TEN YEAES OF PKEACHEB-LIFE ; OK, 

not be alarmed about bis attention to the girls, for be 
would not think of marrying tbe daugbter of any 
man present ; and third, as to trading borses what 
else was be to do ? tbey paid bim nothing, and be 
bad no other way of making money enongb to buy 
bis clotbes. 

I received my salary regularly every tbree months, 
and at tbe end of tbe year was paid my bundred 
dollars in full, besides presents of various yarn stock- 
ings, woollen shirts and other useful articles. 

"Within the year I preached nearly four hundred 
times and rode over three thousand miles, chiefly on 
horseback ; but during tbe summer, when the Illinois 
bottom was under water for nearly a month, 1 
reached my appointments by canoe over a lake nine 
miles wide, ten feet above the road along which I 
bad been accustomed to trot. 

The experiences gained in that year's campaign, 
I would not exchange for those of any other year of 
my life. It was a scene of constant adventure, or 
hair-breadth escapes ; for notwithstanding the saga- 
city of my horse, my piece of an eye was a poor 
substitute for the two good ones that had fallen to 
the share of my contemporaries ; and in this wild, 
roving sort of life, it could not be but that I should 
be especially exposed to peril. Nevertheless, it was 
a life full of hearty enjoyment, and of toil that in- 
spired, while it tasked one's powers. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 99 



CHAPTEE IX. 

"WALKING THE HOSPITAL. 

I managed to pass rny examination at the ensuing 
conference without much difficulty. That it was not 
very formidable, may be gathered from this : A 
young man who had been hard at work on the first 
part of "Watson's Institutes, one of our text-books, 
said to the chairman of the examining committee, 
" I confess that, notwithstanding my best exertions, 
I have been unable to master Mr. "Watson's argument 
on the evidences of Christianity, and I should be 
obliged to you for some explanations." 

" Now look yer," said the venerable chairman, " I 
want you to understand,' that I come here to ask 
questions, not to answer them." 

As my eye was growing rapidly worse, I visited 
St. Louis in the autumn of 184:4, to get medical 
advice and treatment. A number of physicians in 
consultation agreed to undertake tlfll case, hoping 
that if they could not benefit the eye, at least to 
keep it from getting worse*; offering, moreovei u 



100 TEN YEARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE ; UE, 

free ticket to attend the lectures delivered in their 
medical school. 

Thinking that no kind of knowledge should come 
amiss to a Methodist preacher, I determined to 
accept the proposal. 

Acting on this suggestion, an old brother in a 
neighboring conference had made himself acquainted 
with the Thompsonian theory of physic, and took 
great delight in practising it on his circuits. Some 
of his brethren, not liking his theory or course, 
complained of him, when his name was called in the 
annual examination of character. In maintaining his 
right, he said : " £Tow, Mr. Bishop, you know that we 
are commanded to do good to the bodies as well as 
the souls of men. If I were travelling in a region 
where doctors were scarce, and were to find a man 
in a bad spell of bilious fever, ye know I would 
throw him into a sweat, and then give him a dose of 
lobelia or thoroughwort " — 

"JSTo, sir," interrupted the bishop rather haugh- 
tily ; " no, brother, I do not know, and what is more, 
I do not care, what you would do." 

"Yery well, sir, very well," retorted the other, 
" you have as good a right to live and die a fool as 
any other man." 

Notwithstanding I had decided to attend the lec- 
tures and adopt the treatment, how I was to support 
myself meanwhile wa^ not so clear. I had just 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 101 

fifteen dollars in my pocket, and that paid my board 
for a month and a week. As I sat in my chill and 
bare apartment, gloomily ruminating upon the pros- 
pect of parting with my last dollar, and wondering 
what was to come next, I received an invitation to 
take tea with the family of a distinguished lawyer 
of the city. The warm, cheerful glow of the house, 
the sunny hospitality of the family stood out in 
bright relief against the dark background of my 
dreary and lonely lodgings. Many a stormy night 
during my five weeks' stay, had I wandered out in 
the rain and darkness, while the gusty wind was 
sweeping along the streets, and the clouds pouring 
out their torrents, and seen broad beams of light fall- 
ing through the windows of pleasant houses, through 
which issued, too, strains of merry music, the sound 
of laughter and of pleasant voices, and felt the 
wretchedness of solitude in the midst of a peopled 
city. Unable to read at night, with scarce an 
acquaintance in town, my condition had been dismal 
and lonely enough. My evening by this friendly 
fireside, had therefore been one of the pleasantest of 
my life. My host was not only learned in the law, 
but deeply read in polite letters. Accomplished in 
manners as he was engaging in conversation, he fas- 
cinated me no less by his graceful attentions than by 
his charming and varied talk. As I arose to take 
my leave, his generous wife said with true Virginia 



102 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE * OR, 



warmth of tone, " Whither are you going?" "To 
my lodgings," I replied. " These are your lodgings," 
she answered; and her husband taking both my 
hands in his said, " This house is your home, sir, as 
long as you will stay in it ; yonder is your room, and 
your trunk is already there." How this came to 
pass I never knew, for the major could not have been 
aware that I was on my last dollar , m 

The next nine months were passed beneath this 
friendly roof. In the society of my gifted and elo- 
quent friend, I made the acquaintance of the great 
English essayists, and of some of the great English 
poets, especially of Shakspeare. Cupping, leeching, 
physicking, and attendance upon anatomical lectures 
were alternated by readings from the masters of style 
and song. I went from the skeleton in the museum, 
or the corpse in the dissecting-room, to the pervasive 
and ethereal soul that shines through the verse of the 
bard. The darkness that fell upon me after some 
painful operation on the eye, was lit and illumined 

by 

" The light that never was on land or sea, 
The consecration and the poet's dream." 

It was a pleasant thing to go from the smell 
and taste of nauseous drugs, to breathe the air of 
the ideal world, and to exchange a wreath of leeches 
and a necklace of cups, for a sprig of amaranth that 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 103 

blooms in the immortal fields of poetry. My friend 
was the finest reader as well as talker I had ever 
listened to, and his exquisite appreciation afforded 
me a rare interpretation and insight of the achieve- 
ments of sceptered monarchs in the realms of 
thought. 

Ambrosial nights were those in which the major, 
returning from his office or the courts, would render 
for me the glorious voices of the past. 

Then there were other friends to minister to my 
delight and instruction. One of these was a marvel- 
lously gifted woman of society, the widow of a late 
distinguished member of the Senate of the United 
States. She charmed me with stories of her long 
life in Washington, with sketches of the eminent 
personages she had met there, with analyses and des- 
scriptions of their oratory, with anecdotes of the 
private life and manners of the capital. I came to 
know Clay, "Webster, Calhoun, McDuffie, Preston, 
Mangum, Wright, Forsythe, Benton and Jackson, 
almost as vividly as if I had seen and heard them. 
Another of my friends was a young Methodist 
preacher, about my own age, stationed at one of the 
churches in town, and now in a city for the first 
time. Starting upon his first tour of pastoral visita- 
tion, he reached the door of one of his flock, and 
seeing the silver handle of the bell-pull, and under- 
neath it a foot-scraper on the marble step, and sup- 



104 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

posing that the knob was to hold on by while he 
cleaned his feet, nsed it accordingly, and then began 
hammering on the door with his fist to gain admit- 
tance. When the servant came, he inquired rather 
tartly, "Why did you not pnU the bell?" "Bell!" 
said my friend, roused from his dream of admiration 
at the munificent spirit of the householder, in pro- 
viding the silver companion to the iron scraper, 
" there is no bell here ; what is the use of a bell 
when a body's got a fist ?" 

The region in which I now dwelt was historic 

ground, for two or three centuries formed the 

historic horizon of our continent. Although our 
past is only as yesterday, its weird visions have a 
spell for the imagination of those who have never 
looked face to face upon the hoary antiquity of the 
old world. Here underneath the limestone bluff, 
where now rose the proud babel of the West, lay the 
mouldering ashes of the greatest of the Indian 
sachems and warriors, the renowned Ottawa, Pontiac, 
whose gigantic scheme for the extirpation of the 
Anglo-Saxon colonists west of the Alleghanies, less 
than a century ago, filled the people on the seaboard 
with dismay, and bathed the border in blood. 
Here he sleeps the long sleep of death, undisturbed 
by the busy tread, and unburdened by the increasing 
industrial and mercantile trophies of the race which 
in life he so abhorred. A metropolis of the white 



CHA.PTEKS FROM AN AUTOBIOGEAPHY. 105 

man is the mausoleum of the Indian. In the whir of 
its spindles, and the scream of its steam- whistle, civili- 
zation chants the death-song of the red man. 

On the bosom of that mighty river whose tawny 
current now washes the levee of merchandise and 
traffic where hundreds of steamboats lie moored, the 
saintly Marquette and his companion, Joliet, the 
first Europeans whose keel ever furrowed its waves, 
floated in their bark canoe, from the mouth of the 
"Wisconsin, a thousand miles or more past wooded 
and unpeopled banks. A century and a half before 
the knight De Soto had gained it five hundred miles 
below this point, and amazed at its breadth and 
volume, had instinctively named it, the Rio Grande. 
The French in Canada had heard of it as "the great 
river," but now the pious Jesuit, his grateful heart 
filled with love toward the virgin mother of Bethle- 
hem and her divine Son, calls it reverently the river 
of the Conception. 

The indomitable voyageur, La Salle, leaving his 
fort of the Broken Heart, had entered it through 
the Illinois, and found a rapture in sweeping along a 
torrent as impetuous as his own passionate spirit. 
First he called it the Colbert, in honor of the great 
minister of Louis XIV". ; but afterwards, thinking it 
worthy of le grand monarque himself, called it the 
St. Louis, and all the countries that it washed, Louis- 
iana. 

5* 



106 



tezn years of peeachee-life ; OE, 



Beyond the river which has now reclaimed its 
aboriginal name of the Mississippi, stretches the 
great American Bottom, seven or eight miles in 
width by forty or fifty in length. Here at Kaskaskia 
and CahoHa were the earliest Trench settlements of 
the far "West. On these alluvial lands, which had 
once been the bottom of a lake, whose tumultuous 
waters had poured themselves over a precipice more 
dread and awful than Niagara's, these simple-hearted 
people had reared their humble cabins, and lived on 
such friendly terms with the aborigines ; so content- 
edly, lovingly, and piously with each other, that their 
story forms the idyl of American history. TTith 
boundless expense and pains, their governors had 
reared, more than a century ago, on the bank of the 
great river, the impregnable Fort Chartres, as a sure 
defence against the encroachments of the Spaniards 
and the English. But now the river's changing 
stream has undermined the bastions, and tall trees 
are springing from the parade-ground. In this 
region, the Spaniards. French, English and Ameri- 
can settlers had intrigued and wrestled with each 
other, and with the Indians, for supremacy. Here, 
under the direction of the great George Rogers 
Clark, "the Washington of the West," had been 
accomplished some of the most brilliant feats of the 
American Revolution. By his sagacity and indomit- 
able valor, and the conquests which they gained foi 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



107 



him, his native State, " the Old Dominion," had won 
her title to the great northwestern territory, which 
she ceded to the Federal Government twenty years 
later. 

My life moreover had the diversity afforded by 
frequent " pulpit sweats," and of short journeyings 
to neighboring places, to give many people who 
were comparatively destitute such ministrations as I 
could. For these were not forbidden, when taken 
in moderation, by my medical advisers. My life 
was by no means monotonous, and I have rarely 
been busier than during those ten months spent un- 
der the doctors 5 hands. As has generally happened 
to me, however, I quitted them not much the better 
for their skill and pains. My angular pin's-point of 
transparent eye was not one whit clearer or stronger, 
and I went to the conference in September, 1845, to 
report myself as effective, more nearly blind than 
ever. 



108 



TEN" YEAES OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



CHAPTER X. 
"cry aloud and spare not." 

The conference sat at Springfield, the capital oi 
the State ; and having passed my two years of proba- 
tion, I received ordination at the hands of Bishop 
Morris as a deacon. 

At that time we had under our care McKendree 
College, and it was considered desirable to erect a 
Female Seminary of high grade; but considerable 
sums of money were necessary for both. It was 
then customary for the West to call upon the East 
for material aid in all such enterprises. After the 
selection of a site for the future seat of learning, 
and making out an estimate of the sum that would 
be necessary to put it into operation — all this being 
kindly and gratuitously performed by a board of 
trustees — the next step was, to select some man as 
an agent, who should be intrusted with full powers 
to lay the pressing claims of education in the "West 
before the enlightened, Christian communities of the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY . 109 

older Eastern States ; and by his eloquence or skill, 
to raise and bring back all the money he could get. 
To persuade men to part with their gold for the bene- 
fit of some distant region, particularly when it is 
shrewdly suspected that the people in that region 
are, or ought to be, able to help themselves, I have 
found to my cost is a delicate and difficult opera- 
tion. Moreover, if you would make your plea suc- 
cessful you must be able to read the faces of men, 
and to explore their temperament and sensibilities 
through their eyes. I therefore think that a blunder 
was committed when I was appointed by the confer- 
ence as an agent to travel in the Eastern States for 
the pecuniary advantage of its institutions. Never- 
theless, this was my appointment for the ensuing 
year. An old and valued friend offered to accom- 
pany me as a travelling companion. We reached 
Cincinnati without adventure, and began our work 
in this new department. I found my ministerial 
brethren very willing that I should preach as often 
as I could ; but I discovered that whilst my sermons 
were listened to by the people with patience, the 
appeals in behalf of my cause were not responded to. 
There appeared to be a difference of opinion between 
us ; for their estimate of the importance of a Male 
and Female College in Illinois was not nearly as high 
as mine — at least, they seemed to conclude that if 
the two institutions were so indispensable, the people 



110 TEX YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



in Illinois might build them. I preached incessantly 
for three weeks, and found that I had my pains for 
my reward. My old friend and I were disposed to 
shake off the dust of the Queen City from our feet, 
and to take our journey to some more promising 
place, at least to some place were promises would be 
more productive. "We started for "Wheeling, and it 
was to the last degree important, that something in 
the way of getting funds should be done there ; for 
my fare upon the steamboat took the last cent I had. 
Of course the trustees of a college in sending out an 
agent, would esteem it gross folly to furnish him 
with money — let him do as Cortes did, burn his ships 
— that is, go without funds, and then he will have to 
raise them, and fight his way through from sheer 
desperation. 

"We left Cincinnati on the steamer Hibernia early 
on Friday morning, the captain promising to land us 
at AVTieeling by Saturday night. The boat was very 
much crowded, and among the passengers was a 
considerable number of Congressmen, members of 
both houses, on their way to the capital to take their 
seats. As several of them were men known to fame, 
whose names I had been familiar with for years, I 
took great interest in observing them, and in listen- 
ing to their conversation; when, as is often their man- 
ner in such environment, they talked for the bene- 
fit of the company. I cannot say how much I was 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. Ill 



shocked nor how indignant I became at discovering 
that not a few of these representatives of the sove- 
reign people of the United States, swore outrage- 
ously, played cards day and night, and drank villain- 
ous whisky to excess. I expressed my surprise and 
chagrin to my friend ; but the only comfort that I 
received was, that this was the fashion in which 
many of our politicians acted. 

The river was low — fogs came on. Sunday morn- 
ing arrived, we were yet eighty miles below Wheeling 
and there was no place where we could land to spend 
the Sabbath. At breakfast Sme a committee of the 
passengers waited upon me to know if I would 
preach to them. Never did I say yes more gladly ; 
for never had I been so anxious to speak my mind* 
A congregation of nearly three hundred persons 
assembled at half-past ten o'clock, and I took my 
stand between the ladies 5 and gentlemen's cabins ; 
seated in the places of honor upon my right and left 
hand, were most of my late objects of interest — the 
members of Congress. I had never before spoken 
under such circumstances, but nevertheless, preached 
as well as I could, which is not saying much. At 
the close of the discourse proper, however, I could 
not resist the impulse to speak a straightforward 
word to the men on my right and left ; turning to 
them, therefore, I said something to the following 
effect : " I understand that you are members of the 



112 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

Congress of the United States, and as such you are 
or should be the representatives not only of the 
political opinions, but also of the intellectual, moral 
and religious condition of the people of this coun- 
try. As I had rarely seen men of your class, I felt 
on coming aboard this boat a natural interest to hear 
your conversation and to observe your habits. If I 
am to judge the nation by you, I can come to no 
other conclusion than, that it is composed of profane 
swearers, card-players and drunkards. Suppose there 
should be an intelligent foreigner on this boat, tra- 
velling through the country with the intent of form- 
ing a well-considered and unbiased opinion, as to 
the practical working of our free institutions — seeing 
you and learning your position, what would be his 
conclusion? — inevitably, that our experiment is a 
failure, and our country is hastening to destruction. 
Consider the influence of your example upon the 
young men of the nation — -what a school of vice are 
you establishing! If you insist upon the right of 
ruining yourselves, do not by your example corrupt 
and debauch those who are the hope of the land. I 
must tell you, that- as an American citizen I feel dis- 
graced by your behavior ; as a preacher of the Gos- 
pel I am commissioned to tell you, that unless you 
renounce your evil courses, repent of your sins, and 
believe upon the Lord Jesus Christ with hearts unta 
righteousness, you will certainly be damned." 



CHAPTERS FROM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



113 



At the close of the services, I retired to my state- 
room to consider iny impromptu address word by 
word, and whether, if I were called to a reckoning 
for it, I should be willing to abide by it and its conse- 
quences. Plain speaking and stern acting are com- 
mon things among the men of the "West and the 
Southwest, and whosoever starts to run a race of 
this kind should be prepared to go unflinchingly to 
the goal. I came to the conclusion that nothing had 
been said of which I ought to be ashamed, and that 
I would stand by every word of it, let the issue be 
what it might. "While cogitating, there was a tap at 
the door. A gentleman entered, who said : " I have 
been requested to wait upon you by the members of 
Congress on board, who have had a meeting since 
the close of the religious exercises. They desire me 
to present you with this purse of money " — handing 
me between fifty and a hundred dollars — i; as a token 
of their appreciation of your sincerity and fearless- 
ness in reproving them for their misconduct ; they 
have also desired me to ask, if you will allow your 
name to be used at the coming election of chaplain 
for Congress. If you will consent to this, they are 
ready to assure you an honorable election/' Quite 
stunned with this double message, I asked time for 
quiet reflection and for consulting with my friend. 
He warmly urged my acceptance of the offer. As 
the boat neared Wheeling mv decision was asked. J 



114: TEN YEARS OF PKEACHEE-LIFE ; OK, 

assented to their proposal. They went forward to 
the capital ; I tarried in "Wheeling to preach. But 
the sermon on the boat was far more remunerative 
than all the labors at Cincinnati and Wheeling uni- 
ted. By the agency of my new friends, I was in 
due time elected. Their money paid my expenses to 
Washington, and so I entered upon my duties as 
chaplain to Congress. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 115 



CHAPTEE XI. 

A REED SHAKEN BY THE WIND. 

Called thus unexpectedly to fill a novel and 
responsible position, I found myself sorely perplexed 
as to the course I should pursue in preaching. I was 
to occupy the desk which had been filled by many of 
the most eminent divines in the country, and to 
address an audience familiar with the eloquence of 
our greatest statesmen and orators. I was twenty- 
two years of age, with small discipline as a speaker, 
and with little experience of life, and a stranger in 
the land. Hitherto my preaching had been the result 
of as careful and thorough a premeditation as I had 
been able to bestow, digesting t and arranging the 
truths and facts to be uttered, but trusting for the 
words and illustrations, and the living presentation 
of the subject, to the impulse and power of the occa- 
sion. I suppose this- to be what is meant by the 
term " extempore speaking." In order to success in 
it, the mind should work as naturally and serenely 
in the presence of a multitude as if pursuing its pro- 
cesses in the quiet of a cloister. Fear of the audi- 



116 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

ence, and every other form of self-consciousness, must 
be overcome, or the result will be mannerism, con- 
straint, failure. 

In oratory, as in every other noble path, self- 
forgetf illness is the condition of the highest success* 
I remember a favorite clause in the prayers of some 
of the backwoods preachers which, by a vivid meta- 
phor, illustrates the true secret of successful preach- 
ing : " Lord, help me to get behind the cross." Let 
self and the audience alike be hidden, let the infinite 
pity and tenderness of Christ quicken every sensibi- 
lity and swallow every other concern, let the intellect 
and the heart be pervaded with the thought of his 
compassionate love, and a man will be eloquent in 
spite of every difficulty. But how shall a shy, sensi- 
tive boy do all this? Moreover, it is to be con- 
sidered, that as one virtually blind, I occupy the most 
unfortunate conceivable position before an audience. 
This is not said in the way of whining complaint, 
for I have ever been grateful for the modicum of 
vision that has fallen to my share; but I may as 
well, once for all, attempt to interpret the peculi- 
arity of my attitude as a public speaker. "Who has 
not felt the matchless power of the human eye ? Was 
there ever an animated and soul-stirring conversation, 
where the understanding, memory, invention and 
fancy performed their choicest offices, carried forward 
in the dark ? Should the gas which brilliantly illu- 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 117 



mines a crowded theatre or church, be suddenly extin- 
guished, would it not be every man's instinctive act 
to place his hand upon his pocket-book, thereby 
declaring his fear of his neighbors? No sagacious 
man will ever trust another who refuses him the 
tribute of a responsive glance, while they are talking, 
but ever turns his head away, and fixes his eye upon 
vacancy. What orator could electrify an audience, 
speaking to them behind a screen? "What would 
Whitefield have done if he had been blindfolded 
before ascending the pulpit ? Men not only see with 
their eyes, but hear ; for the beaming eye and expres- 
sive face speak a language that articulate sounds can 
never express — a language more moving, soft, and 
irresistible than ever entered the soul through the 
galleries of the ear. Through the eye, the speaker 
enters into sympathy with his audience, by it he per- 
ceives- their capacity, reads their wants, appreciates 
their condition; by it they are persuaded of his sim- 
plicity, earnestness and faith. Unless his eye bears 
witness to his truth, his words will only be sounding 
brass or tinkling cymbal, so true is it, here at least, 
" that seeing is believing." Does his theme quicken 
his pulse and inflame his heart, his glance will kindle 
every eye in the audience, " as in water face answer- 
eth to face, so the heart of man to man.' 5 If the truth 
be spoken truly, it will be reflected from the souls of 
the hearers through their faces. 



118 TEN YEAES OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

With every new convert a man's own confidence 
in Ms teaching is assured, while the answering looks 
of a multitude not only reveal it to the speaker, 
but make himself more deeply known unto himself. 
The secret of eloquence is to be found in the eye of 
the audience, and through it the orator gains his 
highest inspiration — through it they lend him atten- 
tion, interest, sympathy — their best thoughts and 
passions. He is reinforced by their strength, and 
his powers are enriched by the unrestrained gift of 
their sensibilities. 

Thus, then, as it seems to me, the true power of the 
speaking man consists in the balanced and serene 
movement of his intellect, and his near and living 
connection with his hearers through the eye. Unfur- 
nished with knowledge, unpractised by use, how was 
my slender intellect to bear the burden of a great and 
imposing congregation, in a hall where the most 
brilliant and gifted of the land had stirred the hearts 
of a nation, and yet work on with harmonious ease 
and undisturbed composure? Separated from my 
congregation by the impassable gulf of darkness, across 
which no lightning flash of intelligence and kindness 
could send its message of comfort and cheer; how 
should I, destitute of excellency of speech and wis- 
dom, gain access to their hearts? So far as the intel- 
lect was concerned, true I might acquire a certain 
amount of easy and self-possessed activity on con- 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 119 

dition of composing my discourses beforehand, word 
by word, committing them to memory, and deliver- 
ing them by rote. In this way, at least, I might 
be able to speak with less discredit to myself and 
friends, and possibly produce something worth the 
hearing; but, after all, is not this the substitution 
of a vigorous recollection for a vigorous mind— the 
cultivation of one power at the expense of many ? 
Most of my time must be consumed in this prepa- 
ration, and little be left for liberal study and gene- 
ral improvement. "Was not this becoming a mere 
maker of sermons, when the first and last of all 
duties is to become a man, rounded, complete and 
full ? Here, in the Congressional Library lay about 
me the vast fields of knowledge, in which, as one 
travelled farther and farther in any direction, the 
azure veils of the horizon lifted themselves and 
receded, while the delights of the way and the 
rewards of the journey daily enticed the traveller to 
go farther. Here, in the society now opened to me, 
were men and women, whose acquaintance with the 
world, whose knowledge of life and character, whose 
manners, conversation and culture might be invalua- 
ble as spurs, encouragements and auxiliaries. Would 
not this memoriter style of preparation for the pulpit, 
by engrossing most of my time, and narrowing my 
efforts to a single point, deprive me of many of these 
advantages which I coveted? By rendering myself 



120 mn YEARS of preachee-liee ; OB, 

dependent on it, should I not mortgage my future and 
bind myself as the slave of a bad habit ? Thus it 
seemed, and after much fear and bewilderment I 
resolved to adhere, come what might, to the old style 
of preparation. True, I was laying up in store for 
myself many an hour of bitter mortification and 
chagrin, when, crushed by the weight of gathered 
crowds, 1^ stood before them almost as a paralyzed 
imbecile. "Well might it have been asked of them, 
" "What went ye out for to see ?" and most appropriate 
would have been the answer, " A reed shaken by the 
wind." There is one comfort, however, to every con- 
scientious workman, let him toil wheresoever he will, 
that his labor shall not return unto him void. If humbly 
yet firmly trusting in the spiritual laws that under- 
gird and prop the universe, a man bend himself with 
dogged and unconquerable resolution to his task, 
whatever it is, his reward shall come in due time. 1 
had given two years toward acquiring the use of my 
voice, and learning to speak in such a way as not 
only not to injure throat and lungs, but to conserve 
the welfare of a fragile and delicate frame. Could I 
not afford to pay four years, if necessary, of discomfort, 
annoyance and failure to insure a natural connection 
between the tongue and the brain, and to gain for 
the brain itself the healthful and natural play of its 
taculties when the body was erected upon its legs in 
the midst of an assembly however large, or upon an 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 121 



occasion however momentous ? Most things in this 
life have their price, and he who is willing to pay the 
fall worth of an article can generally have it. " What 
will you have? quoth God. Pay for it and take 
it," saith the proverb. I was a preacher for six 
years before I gained the power and habit of ex- 
tempore speech. Great as are my losses in the 
worlds of nature and of art from imperfect vision, 
I feel now, as I have ever felt, that incomparably 
my greatest loss is as a speaker. Could I only look 
into the face of my brother man as we talk toge- 
ther, gladly would I welcome darkness at all other 
times — the light of the human face divine would 
reconcile me to the loss of the Sun. Thus, though I 
be debarred from the use of that noblest power with 
which God has gifted man, the power of spoken elo- 
quence ; though I be hedged and hampered by the 
constraint of an ever-during gloom, why grieve or 
be heavy of heart. " Though no chastening for the 
present seemeth to be joyous but grievous : neverthe- 
less, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righte- 
ousness unto all them that are exercised thereby." 

" God hath many aims to compass, many messages to send, 
And his instruments are fitted each to its distinctive end ; 
Earth is filled with groaning spirits, hearts that wear a galling chain, 
Minds designed for noble uses, bondaged to the lust of gain — 
Souls once beautiful in whiteness, crimsoned with corruption's 
stain* 

6 



122 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



Through earth's wrong, and woe, and evil, sometimes seeing, some- 
times blind, 

Ever must the homeward pathway of the humble Christian wind ; 
Stooping over sin and sorrow, bending by the couch of pain, 
Holy promises outpouring, grateful as the summer's rain 
To the heart whose hope had withered, never to revive again. 

* ******* 

54 Thus are God's ways vindicated, and at length we slowly gain, ^ 
As our needs dispel our blindness, some faint glimpses of the chain 
Which connects the earth with heaven — right with wrong, and good 
with ill, 

Links in one harmonious movement, slowly learn we to fulfill 
Our appointed march in concert, with his manifested will." 

******** 



They also serve wlio only stand and wait. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 123 



CHAPTER XII. 

CONGRESS AND TWO OF ITS YOUNG MEN. 

The duties of the chaplaincy were simple enough. 
To open the two Houses of Congress with prayer 
daily, to preach in the Hall of Representatives' on 
Sunday morning; and as there were two of us to per- 
form these offices, there was abundant leisure to 
follow our bent. Of course, my fancy had pictured 
the Capitol as an Olympian summit, where the greater 
and lesser gods held their festivals and dispensed their 
favors. The debates of the two houses were to fur- 
nish me an endless fund of entertainment and instruc- 
tion. What was Hebe's nectar to that which I should 
imbibe from the glittering chalice of Congressional 
discussion ? I had heard a great deal of speaking 
— good, bad, and indifferent — from the stumps and 
pulpits of prairie land ; but here, with the flower of 
the nation in council, I should enjoy a repast whose 
delicacies could never cloy, and whose abundance 
could never fail. But our ideals fade away into thin 
air when brought to the touchstone of experience, 
and disappointment is the common lot. 



124: TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

The first effect of life in "Washington for a young 
enthusiast is that of disenchantment ; and he must 
become familiarized with the routine of business and 
inured to the commonplaces and platitudes of 
speeches for " Buncombe," before he is thoroughly 
prepared to enjoy the gladiatorship of the Capitol. 
It was mortifying enough to see an honorable repre- 
sentative or senator speaking to " a beggarly account 
of empty boxes," while even such of his colleagues 
as were present seemed to treat him and his dis- 
course with utter contempt, engaged as they were in 
writing, reading newspapers, chatting jovially, or 
even lunching. Few speeches in Congress have any 
effect upon Congress itself; nevertheless, there is 
scarcely one delivered which is not productive of good 
results. A nation that has assumed the awful respon- 
sibility of self-government needs abundant instruction. 
The abstract doctrines of political science can have 
little interest or weight with the masses of the people. 
They have neither the education nor the powers oi 
reflection to appreciate or apply them. 

They must be addressed on their own level, and 
while their plane should be an ever ascending one, 
the politicians must meet them on the common ground 
of their capacities. If the majority of the nation are 
fitly represented by the inhabitants of Buncombe 
County, ISTorth Carolina, of necessity the greater part 
of our political eloquence must be of the Buncombe 



CHAPTEES FKOM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 125 

order. I fancy that the reason why our public speak- 
ing has assumed a lower range of discussion, and a 
less finished style, is that the audience in the Republic 
has become wider and less select. In the days of 
Hamilton, Jay, and Jefferson, public opinion was 
created by a few men, and Congress represented an 
oligarchy. But now the multitude claims its rights. 
"We have become a nation of newspaper readers. 
Every man affects to be informed upon the questions 
of the day ; and every Congressional speech delivered 
to an inattentive and listless house is nevertheless 
read by some thousands of the speaker's constituents 
and political adherents. The fitness of their audience 
might compensate the fathers of the Republic for its 
smallness ; its ample size must satisfy our contempo- 
raries for its want of quality. Congress must be for 
some time to come less and less a theatre of high 
debate : more and more a kind of lyceum for the 
delivery of lectures on current topics usually addressed 
to hundreds, sometimes to millions of listeners. As 
we have fewer Titans in the Senate, we may yet con- 
gratulate ourselves that the average of intelligence, 
truth and ability is constantly increasing. I firmly 
believe that in the proportion of members there is far 
less of drunkenness, gambling, duelling, and all the 
grosser sins, and more of uprightness, honor, and 
patriotism in Congress to-day than there has ever 
been. No single name is now such a tower of strength 



126 TEN YEARS OF PEEACHEK-LIFE ; OK, 

as the names of Clay, Calhoun and Webster once 
were ; but Congress has not lost its significance for all 
that. Above the Yice-President's chair is a narrow 
gallery, traversed by a line of desks, where sit the 
reporters. That is the whispering-gallery, through 
which the faintest tone uttered in the chamber travels 
to the extremes of the Continent. The intellect of 
our forum now has the lightning harnessed as its 
post-horse; and the symbol of the age is a saucy, 
dirty newsboy astride of a telegraph wire, shouting, 
" Tribune, Herald and Times" 

After John Quincy Adams and a few other veterans 
the two members of the House in whom I became 
most interested were young men who had entered 
the national service side by side, from distant quarters 
of the Union two years before, — one from Georgia, 
the other from Illinois. As two of the most sig- 
nificant men of the country, it may be allowed me to 
sketch them. 

Alexander Hamilton Stephens is the most powerful 
orator in Congress, and that with all the odds against 
him. When standing he is a man of medium height, 
but when seated he looks like a boy, for his trunk is 
remarkably short, and his face exceeding youthful. 
Careless of his personal appearance, his hair, falling 
in masses over his fine brow, his black, brown, or any 
other colored cravat, he seems to know not which, 
tied in a sailor's knot, his clothes fitting well, if he 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 127 

has been fortunate in his tailor (rarely the case), 
an immense gold chain terminated by a heavy seal 
falling from his watch-fob, he presents an unpromis- 
ing, not to say an outre appearance. "When in 
repose, his face does not promise much more ; pale, 
with a slightly sallow tinge, sometimes with a hectic 
flush upon his cheek, it seems to belong to a beard- 
less boy. His arms and legs are very long, and his 
whole frame, not compactly knit, appears loose and 
awkward, and the victim of lifelong disease. How 
nearly disease and genius may be associated is a 
question which I leave for physiologists and psycho- 
logists to settle. But I feel sure that sleepless 
nights and days of pain and fever have had much to 
do with the brilliant intellect of this remarkable 
man. His voice, too, in common talk, gives as 
little token of his power as his other features, for it 
is thin, high-pitched, and inclining to the falsetto. 
Trained as a lawyer at the Georgia bar, a wonderful 
school for the development of popular eloquence (for 
the jury system is there pushed to its remotest limit), 
he early displayed those gifts which have made his 
name so famous ; a sharp, incisive intellect, broad in 
its comprehension, firm in its grasp, as keen in its 
perceptions, coupled with an emotional nature, deli- 
cate as it is strong, giving him an invincible hold 
upon the interest and sympathy of his hearers. 
Returned to the House of Representatives when 



128 TEN YEAES OF PREACH EE-LIFE ; OR, 

scarcely thirty years of age, lie had by the time I first 
saw him already gained the undivided ear of the 
House. "When he stood up to speak, there was 
no lunching, chatting, or apathy in the Hall, which 
seemed divided between the silence and his voice. 
The almost feminine squeak of his opening soon 
became a consistent, ringing tone, penetrating every 
corner of the spacious apartment ; and judging from 
his effect upon the ear, I can well believe, what I 
have so often heard, that the impression of his pre- 
sence upon the eye almost amounted to a transforma- 
tion. In defence of his position he is at once logical 
and persuasive, setting his argument before you in 
a clear light and striking attitude, insomuch that the 
remark of Mr. Horace Greeley is justified, " that you 
forget you are listening to the most eloquent man in 
Washington, and only feel that he is right." His 
manner is rapid, sometimes vehement, always col- 
lected. Having in an instant gained your absorbed 
attention, he wins your confidence by his apparent 
fairness of reasoning, until at length you submit your- 
self to his control without compunction, or the dread 
of his being overcome. The most brilliant, albeit not 
the most satisfying, part of his oratory is seen when he 
turns upon his opponents. His powers of satire, ridi- 
cule, sarcasm, and invective are fearful ; and yet the 
man of good breeding never forgets himself, nor is 
hurried away into truculent abuse. Many a man has 



CHAPTERS FEOM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 129 

smarted or even withered under Mr. Stephens' irony 
or denunciation, but I question if any has ever had 
cause to say that he was not a gentleman. 

I fancy that there are several points of apparent re- 
semblance between Mr. Stephens and John Randolph 
of Roanoke, but there must be more of real difference. 
Both have been the victims of disease, whose origin 
dates far back in life, and each has consequently 
been the owner of a body, which, however exqui- 
sitely it may have been strung, has been perilously 
sensitive. Both have exercised almost unequalled sway 
upon the floor of Congress ; and both have been noted 
as masters in the art of offensive parliamentary war. 
Both have been admitted to be unimpeachably 
honest and fearless statesmen, shunning no danger 
and braving every peril in the maintenance of their 
peculiar and cherished convictions. But Mr. Ran- 
dolph had scarcely a friend ; Mr. Stephens has hardly 
an enemy. Bodily infirmity, if it did not master Mr. 
Randolph's will, soured his temper, and gave to his 
perfect diction the poison of wormwood, and to his., 
spirit the gall of bitterness that verged upon misan- 
thropy. Mr. Stephens has conquered suffering, and 
keeps himself strong and noble by entering heartily 
into the sweet charities of life. Proud of his lineage 
and his birthplace, an intolerant aristocrat, with 
varied and finished culture, refined taste, a high sense 
of honor, a mind disposed to prey upon itself, and a 

6* 



130 TEST YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

contempt for those who did not share his advantages, 
the Yirginian, nevertheless, presented a curious spec- 
tacle, as the unflinching advocate of extreme Demo 
cratic doctrines, whilst at the same time he was 
unable to free himself from the tyrannous sentiment 
of exclusiveness and caste. With an air of stately 
haughtiness he entered the lists of congressional 
debate, like some solitary champion, with visor up, 
that all might recognize him, wearing the colors of 
a fair lady, whose place upon the throne of his affec- 
tions never knew a rival, and in the honor of his own 
Virginia defiantly threw his gage of battle to all 
comers. He challenged- your admiration and de- 
manded your submission; he disdained your sym- 
pathy and scorned your weakness. If you were not 
a gentleman by the four descents he would hurl at 
you all the fiery darts of his jeering ridicule ; and if 
you were not born in the " Old Dominion," nothing 
could expiate your offence, and as a Pariah you must 
bear the insult of his complacent or scoffing pity. 
Any provincialism of pronunciation or phrase upon 
the part of a man whom he thought worthy to be 
considered as an antagonist, was chastised in the sum- 
mary fashion of a pedagogue, and more than one dis- 
tinguished member of our national council has been 
taught English by the great Yirginian, insomuch 
that in his day he deserved the appellation of the 
schoolmaster of Congress. The Georgian, on the othei 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 131 

hand, is as simple and genial in his manners as a 
child; considerate and kind to all, his friendliness 
begets for him friendship. He rarely speaks except 
upon an occasion which demands all his powers, and 
then, after mature deliberation, and a careful survey 
of his own • position and of that occupied by those 
opposed to him ; so that he is like a great general 
leading disciplined and well-concentrated forces to 
the attack, and so admirable are at once his instinctive 
* and reflective powers, that he seldom makes a mistake 
or suffers a defeat. He is a born leader of men, 
because his comprehensive intellectual nature is 
seconded and animated by his yet finer social nature ; 
and whether Mr. Stephens continue in the House, 
which I presume he would prefer as the great popular 
body, or be removed to the Senate, I think that the 
country will one day adjudge him the finest orator 
and ablest statesman in either. The idol of Mr. 
Randolph's political worship was State sovereignty ; 
the coordinate rights of the State in harmony with 
the unity and ascendency of the Federal Government 
is the platform of Mr. Stephens. Mr. Randolph was 
a Virginian ; Mr. Stephens is a patriot. 

The other member of the House to whom I allude 
is Stephen Arnold Douglas. The first time I saw 
him was in June, 1838, standing on the gallery of the 
Market House, which some of my readers may recol 
lect as situate in the middle of the square of J ackson 



132 TEN I EARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE ; OK, 

ville. He and Colonel John J. Hardin were engaged 
in canvassing Morgan County for Congress. He was 
upon the threshold of that great world in which he 
has since played so prominent a part, and was engaged 
in making one of his earliest stump-speeches. I stood 
and listened to him, surrounded by a motley crowd 
of 'backwood farmers and hunters, dressed in 
homespun or deerskin, my boyish breast glow- 
ing with exultant joy, as he, only ten years my 
senior, battled so bravely for the doctrines of his party- 
with the veteran and accomplished Hardin. True, I 
had been educated in political sentiments. opposite to 
his own, but there was something captivating in his 
manly straightforwardness and uncompromising 
statement of his political principles. He even then 
showed signs of that dexterity in debate, and 
vehement, impressive declamation, of which he 
has since become such a master. # He gave the crowd 
the color of his own mood as he interpreted their 
thoughts and directed their sensibilities. His first- 
hand knowledge of the people, and his power to speak 
to them in their own language, employing arguments 
suited to their comprehension, sometimes clinching a 
series of reasons by a frontier metaphor which refused 
to be forgotten, and his determined courage, which 
never shrank from any form of difficulty or danger, 
made him one of the most effective stump- orators I 
have ever heard. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



133 



Less than four years before, lie had walked into 
the town of "Winchester, sixteen miles southwest 
of Jacksonville, an entire stranger, with thirty- 
seven and a half cents in his pocket, his all of 
earthly fortune. His first employment was as clerk 
of a " Yandu," as the natives call a sheriff's sale. 
He then seized the birch of the pedagogue, and sought 
by its aid and by patient drilling, to initiate a hand- 
ful of half-wild boys into the sublime mysteries of 
Lindley Murray. His evenings were divided between 
reading newspapers, studying Blackstone, and talking 
politics. It is a droll sight to see a crowd of men 
and boys gathered in one of the primary con- 
ventions of squatter sovereigns, at a village store 
on the public square, after night. It is a Rialto for 
the merchants, a news-room for the quidnuncs, a 
mixture of the town-hall and caucus-room for the # 
politicians, and a theatre and circus united for the 
huge entertainment of the boys. The establishment 
is closed for business, but the door is open for all 
comers, and in winter time a cheery fire is kept blaz- 
ing for the common weal. The "counter-hopper," 
as the clerk is familiarly called, is on duty as 
sentry, the counters, boxes, bales, barrels, are used 
as seats by the potent assembly, while every one is 
solacing himself with a quid of tobacco laid away in 
his cheek, or a rank cigar, poetically styled a cab- 
bage-leaf. The principal speakers are expected tc 



134: TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

surround the stove, each, with his back toward it^ 
his hands occupied in keeping the tails of his coat as 
far asunder as possible. The members of the society 
address each other by the diminutive of their 
Christian names, as Pete, Jim, Bill, or Steve, and 
the grand doctrines of liberty, equality and fraternity 
are realized on the common level of story-telling, 
smoke, tobacco-spit, and boisterous declamation. 
Such are the debating clubs wherein I imagine 
most of our western orators, legal and political, have 
first spread their unfledged wings and tried to soar 
toward distinction; doubtless it was in just such 
a school that Mr. Douglas took his first lesson in 
oratory. He, before long, by virtue of his indomita- 
ble energy, acquired enough of legal lore to pass an 
examination, and " to stick up his shingle," as they 
call putting up a lawyer's sign. And now began a 
series of official employments, by which he has 
mounted, within five and twenty years, from the 
obscurity of a village pedagogue on the borders of 
civilization, to his present illustrious and commanding 
position. First, he was elected the State's Attorney 
for the judicial district in which he lived, and next, to 
a seat in the Legislature. He then ran for Congress, 
but was defeated by five votes, and was afterward 
appointed Register of the Land Office in Springfield. 
Resigning this, he was chosen to be Secretary of State, 
and while he filled the office, was elected Judge of 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 135 



the Supreme Court of tlie State. His next step was 
"into Congress, and in 1846 or M7 lie was elected to 
the Senate, in which he will soon enter upon Ms third 
term of six years. Thus, in the twelve or thirteen 
years that had elapsed from the time of his entering 
the State, a friendless, penniless youth ; he had served 
his fellow-citizens in almost every official capacity, 
and entered the highest position within their power 
to confer. 

]STo man, since the days of Andrew Jackson, has 
gained a stronger hold upon the confidence and at- 
tachment of his adherents, or exercised a more domi- 
nating authority over the masses of his party than 
Judge Douglas. Whether upon the stump, in the 
caucus, or the Senate, his power and success in debate 
are prodigious. His instincts stand him in the stead 
of imagination, and amount to genius. 

Notwithstanding the busy and boisterous political 
life which he has led, with all its engrossing cares and 
occupations, Mr. Douglas has, nevertheless, by his 
invincible perseverance, managed to redeem much 
time for self-improvement. For one in his situation, 
he has been a wide and studious reader of history 
and its kindred branches. Contact with affairs has 
enlarged his understanding and strengthened his 
judgment. Thus, with his unerring sagacity, his 
matured and decisive character, with a courage 
which sometimes appears to be audacity, but which 



136 TEN TEAKS OF 1 RE ACHER-LTFE \ OK, 



is in reality tempered by prudence, a will that 
never submits to an obstacle, however vast, and a 
knowledge of the people, together with a power to 
lead them, incomparable in this generation ; he may 
be accepted as a practical statesman of the highest 
order. 

It must be confessed that there was formerly a dash 
of the rowdy in Mr. Douglas, and that even now the 
blaze of the old Berserker fire will show itself at 
times. But it must be recollected that his is a vivid 
and electric nature, of redundant animal life and 
nervous energy ; that he was bred, not in scho- 
lastic seclusion, nor amid the conventional routine of 
a settled population, but that his character has taken 
shape and color from that of the bold men of the 
border, where pluck was the highest virtue, and 
| " back-bone," to use a phrase of the country, com- 

pensated for many a deficiency in elegance. His 
organization is exuberant, but not coarse. Like 
the prairies of his adopted State, which in their 
wildness yield a luxuriant bounty of long grass 
and countless flowers, but return to culture un- 
measured harvests of wheat and corn ; so his 
youth may have known the flush and pride of rude 
health, yet his manhood turns up, under the plough- 
share of experience, a loam fit to mature the glo- 
rious plants of wisdom, power, virtue and patriot* 
ism. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 137 

In society, few men are more agreeable, provided 
yon are willing to make allowance (which, most peo 
pie in this conntry are bonnd to do) for the defects of 
early breeding, which can never be entirely hidden. 
He is singularly magnetic in conversation, full of 
humor, spirit and information, and charms while he 
instructs. Of course, he has one habit which consti- 
tutes a Masonic bond of brotherhood among all 
western men — I mean that of chewing tobacco. 

I cannot refrain from telling a story, which, though 
somewhat at the expense of Judge Douglas, tells 
at least half the truth %i regard to his competency 
for a seat on the Supreme Bench, and moreover illus- 
trates the power of repartee produced by " stumping 
it," as the political canvass is styled. In his last ex- 
citing contest for the Senate, the judge began the 
campaign by a speech in Chicago. Among those 
seated on the platform behind him was his competitor, 
familiarly called Abe (instead of Abram) Lincoln. 
In the course of his argument, Mr. Douglas said, that 
the attempt of the Republican party to appeal from 
the decision of the Supreme Court, in the Dred Scott 
case, to the people, reminded him of a remark made 
once by Mr. Butterfield, a late member of the 
Chicago bar, in relation to the Supreme Court of 
Illinois, for whose ability and learning, or rather 
want of them, he had a profound contempt. Mr 
B. said that he presumed the judicial system of 



138 TEN YEAES OF PREACHEE-LIFE J OR, 

Illinois stood without a rival in the civilized world ; 
that it was as near perfection as a human institution 
could be, and that there was only one amendment of 
it which he could suggest, namely, that an appeal 
from its decisions might be taken to any two justices 
of the peace. Of course the hit was evident, and the 
crowd burst into a loud laugh, at the expense of the 
judge's opponents. But high over the sound of the 
boisterous merriment, rose the sharp, peculiar laugh 
of Mr. Lincoln ; and when the noise had sufficiently 
abated, for his voice to be heard throughout the 
assembly, he retorted, " 'But, Judge, that was when 
you were on the bench." The judge had nothing 
for it but to " acknowledge the corn." 

I 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 139 



CHAPTER XHL 

THE SENATE. 

It is impossible for an American to enter the Senate 
chamber, without feelings of respect and veneration. 
The time-honored memories which enshrine the place, 
the traditions of illustrious men that have occupied 
these seats, the grand words of statesmanship and 
patriotism uttered within these walls and which still 
seem to linger in the air, and the august assembly 
now gathered for high deliberative purposes, combine 
to impress the imagination and to awaken something 
like a solemn delight. Here have stood Macon, of 
North Carolina ; John Taylor of Caroline ; Randolph, 
Barbour and Giles of Yirginia ; Pinkney of Maryland ; 
Porter of Louisiana ; Rufus King and Silas "Wright of 
]STew York ; Benton and Linn of Missouri ; Grundy 
and "White of Tennessee ; and a host of other men 
who, together with Clay, Calhoun, and Webster, by 
their conspicuous abilities and virtues, constitute the 
parliamentary glory of our brief history. I doubt 
not that by the purity of the motives of its members, 
their incorruptible patriotic integrity, their eminent 



WO TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

endowments coupled with, large experience, and by 
their powers of oratory and debate, we may boldly 
challenge a comparison between the Senate and any 
body of lawgivers ever convened. 

I may be pardoned for refreshing the recollection 
of my readers with brief mention of some of the men 
whose names seem sacred to the spot. 

Probably no man has ever filled a chair in the 
Senate, whose personal influence was so weighty, whose 
character was so revered, as Mr. Macon of l^orth 
Carolina. A sturdy patriot even from boyhood, 
relinquishing college-life to take part as a private in 
the Revolutionary war, serving with Greene in his 
arduous campaign against Cornwallis, he had won the 
respect and confidence of the citizens of his native 
county, before attaining his majority, and despite his 
youth, was elected by them to a seat in the General 
Assembly of the State. Receiving the Governor's 
requisition, while Greene's forces were protected from 
the superior power of Cornwallis only by the swollen 
torrent of the Yadkin, he determined to disregard the 
summons and to abide the perils of the camp with his 
fellow-soldiers. The wise commander, hearing it, 
sent for him and demanded if the story were true. 
The young private quietly answered, " Yes." . " "Why? 
then, do you remain in the camp, while the halls of 
the State-House await you?" " Because," said the 
energetic yourg soldier, " I have often seen the faces 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 141 

of the British, and for once I want to see their backs." 
Greene showed him how, as a member of the Assem- 
bly, he could be of far more service to the country, 
and especially to its army, by representing their dis- 
tressed and forlorn condition and pressing the vote 
of supplies, than as a private soldier, and induced him 
to proceed to the capital. Such was Mr. Macon's 
entrance upon the noble legislative career, which the 
earnest desire of his constituents induced him to pur- 
sue, for fifty years. Identified with the founders of 
the Republic ; some will read these pages who remem- 
ber " the noblest Roman of them all," as he quitted the 
Senate a little more than thirty years ago. A planter 
of moderate means, accustomed to work in the field 
in company with " his hands living in frugal but hos- 
pitable style, raising his own wheat, corn and bacon ; 
his two or three hogsheads of tobacco, shipped annu- 
ally, serving to procure him all the luxuries he ever 
knew ; he always appeared in Washington, in a suit 
of navy blue, in the cut of Revolutionary times, in 
immaculate linen, his head surmounted by a broad- 
brimmed Quaker-hat, and his hand grasping a massive 
gold-headed cane. As to the Constitution, he was a 
strict constructionist. He was the confidential friend 
and adviser of Mr. Jefferson and the next two Presi- 
dents, as well as of all the first statesmen of the time. 
" Nathaniel Macon was the austerest of advocates for 
public economy and simplicity. A late President of 



142 TEN YEARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE ; OB, 

the United States informs us, that while in office, he 
and several members of his cabinet paid a visit to the 
ISTorth Carolina patriarch. He was quartered on 
his plantation, in half a dozen log-houses, cne of 
which served for kitchen, another for dining-room, 
and so on. Fine linen, old wine^ silver and cut glass, 
however, profusely abounded. The first day wore off 
briskly. Early the next morning, the President and 
his secretaries were invited to a horseback ride over 
the grounds. "WTien they stepped out to mount, our 
informant was struck with dismay. There stood a dozen 
grooms stripping the requisite number of race-horses, 
whose fiery eyes, dilated nostrils, impatient champ- 
ing, and light, sinewy forms, apparently capable of 
mounting into the air, augured anything but a quiet 
morning's airing to sedate, middle-aged gentlemen 
who had never ridden a steeple-chase or made experi- 
ments in flying. Macon insisted, the well-broke 
horse was as kind as he was spirited, and all took a 
parting look of the ground and mounted. The ani- 
mals vindicated their master's eulogium, and no 
accidents occurred. As they swept along in the ex- 
hilarating morning air, with the sensation of being 
poised on aerial springs, the patriarch 6 held forth' 
on his horses. One was an 'Archy,' another a 
( Wildair,' another something else ; but each had a 
pedigree as long and aristocratic as a German baron 
of sixteen quarterings. Their exploits, and their 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 143 



ancestors' exploits were proudly recounted. Each, in 
his opinion, was worth, a plantation. Mr. Macon's 
amused guests were i almost persuaded 3 before their 
return to become horse fanciers."* 

Although a consistent member of " the Baptist per- 
suasion," as he called it, the great Senator could not 
resist the taste for horseflesh, so predominant among 
gentlemen south of the Potomac. Another illustration 
of the same passion is connected with one of my ear- 
liest recollections. The only time I ever saw Andrew 
Jackson was early on a bright summer morning, when 
he came into my father's yard to look at some blooded 
animals that had just been imported from England. 
And well do I remember how the patriarch's face 
glowed and his eye shone, as he gazed upon the 
noble creatures, f and spoke in excited tones of the 
exquisite blending of beauty and strength in their 
mold. Never shall I forget the impressive appear- 
ance, the tall spare figure, the glittering eye and the 
commanding presence of the erect old man. 

Returning to Mr. Macon ; . . . when he had reached 
his seventieth year, which according to the Psalmist 
is the due limit of human life, he resigned his seat in 
the Senate in 1828, to spend the residue of his days in 
serene preparation for the last silence ; leaving behind 

* Randall's Life of Jefferson, p. 665, vol. ii. 

f By the way, " Creetur" is almost the universal name for horse in 
many of the rural parts of our country. 



144 TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OE, 

him an almost unequalled reputation for firmness 
guided by wisdom, and integrity softened by good- 
ness. At bis death, some years after, he desired that 
his body might be buried in a stony ridge, and that 
his only monument should be a cairn of flint rock. 

The transition is a natural one, from the unimpeach- 
able rectitude and primitive simplicity of Nathaniel 
Macon, to the equally stainless honor, coupled with 
universal culture and preeminent powers, of "Wil- 
liam Pinkney. It is true that his fame is more espe- 
cially identified with the chamber underneath the 
Senate, the Supreme Court room; but in both these, 
as well as in the House, for learning, genius and elo- 
quence, he was like a star, and dwelt apart; and 
although dying in Ms very prime, he has left a repu- 
tation which can never pale, so long as the verdict of 
such men as Randolph, "Wirt, Gilmer, Jefferson, Ben- 
ton, Tazewell, and "Webster, has worth. He was the 
pride and Colossus of our bar ; the Gamaliel at whose 
feet most of our jurists that have attained distinction 
since the last war, sat with grateful docility. Gifted 
. with genius which might almost have disdained labor, 
he yet felt that labor was the all of genius, and at length 
by the severity of his application, forfeited his life. 
Doomed to a youth of poverty, in consequence of his 
father's adhesion to the loyalist cause in Revolutionary 
times, he nevertheless managed to gain enough of 
academic lore and legal erudition to place him at the 



CHAPTERS FPwOM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 145 

bar of Maryland, by the time lie was twenty-five years 
of age. 

He advanced with rapid strides to a front rank in 
his profession, was immediately enlisted in the dip- 
lomatic service of his country, and sent abroad to 
perform the delicate and responsible duties of commis- 
sioner to adjudge private claims, growing out of the 
Revolutionary war, under the treaty with England. 

He resided much in London, prosecuting his legal 
studies, occupying all his leisure in scrupulous at- 
tendance upon the courts of "Westminster and in the 
best society of the world's metropolis. He was 
subsequently a minister to several of the first- 
class European courts, never for a moment re- 
laxing his studies nor his attempts to improve 
himself as an orator. He, more than any other man, 
introduced into the highest courts of the country the 
most impressive style of argumentative eloquence, 
enriched with all the graces of varied and exact learn- 
ing outside his own profession. As Attorney-General 
under Mr. Madison, as member of the House of Re- 
presentatives and of the Senate, he surpassed compe- 
tition. On his entrance into the House, he was called 
upon to deliver a speech upon the treaty-making 
power. As a full lawyer and experienced diploma- 
tist, he exhausted the subject and could not but seem 
to instruct the House. Mr. Randolph, who thought 
that a new member should pass a novitiate before 

7 



146 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER- LIFE ; OE, 

attempting to teach, administered to him one of those 
subtle yet significant reproofs which he, better than any 
other man, knew how to give. Rising to reply to Mr. 
Pinkney, he said, "Mr. Speaker — the gentleman 
from Maryland " — and then pausing as if in doubt, he 
added, "I believe he is from Maryland," and then 
proceeded. The hit was palpable, and no one relished 
it more than the man at whom it was aimed, who 
coming round to Mr. Randolph's seat at the close of 
the speech, requested permission to dissipate his 
doubt, and to assure him that he was from Maryland. 
An intimacy at once sprung up between them which 
lasted until Mr. Pinkney's death. !No announce- 
ment of a similar event has probably ever produced 
such a sensation in Congress, as that of Mr. Pinkney's 
death, by Mr. Randolph. Rising in the midst of a 
stormy sectional debate, growing out of the Missouri 
Compromise question, he said in his slow, impressive 
way, " For this one day at least, let us say, as our first 
mother said to our first father : 

* While yet we lire, scarce one short hour perhaps, 
Between us two let there be peace.' 

I rise to announce to the House the most unlooked-for 
death of a man who filled the first place in the 
public estimation, in the first profession, in that esti- 
mation, in this or any other country. "We have been 
talking of General Jackson, and a greater than he, is, 
not here, but gone forever. I allude, sir, to the boast 



CHAPTERS FEOX £X AUTOBIOGEAPHT. 147 

of Maryland and the pride of the United States — the 
pride of all of us, but more particularly the pride and 
ornament of the profession of which yon, Mr. Speaker 
(Mr. Philip P. Barbour), are a member, and an emi- 
nent one." 

" Mr. Pinkney was kind and affable in his temper, 
free from every taint of envy or jealousy, conscious of 
his powers, and relying upon them alone for success. 
He was a model to all young men in his habits of 
study and application, and at more than sixty years 
of age, was still a severe student. In politics he 
classed democratically, and was one "of the few of 
our eminent public men who never seemed to think 
of the Presidency. Oratory was his glory, the law 
his profession, the bar his theatre, and his service in 
Congress was only a brief episode, dazzling each 
House, for he was a momentary member of each, 
with a single and splendid speech." 

But it is time that I had turned from the Senate 
of the elder days, to the body as it was composed 
when I first stood in the Yice-President's place, to 
open its deliberations with prayer. The solemn 
hush that pervaded the room, betokened the grave 
decorum of the fifty men who stood with their grey 
heads bowed reverently, as a beardless boy com- 
mended them to the care and guidance of the God of 
nations. 

Among those - who have filled a prominent place 



148 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

in the nation's eye, there were Messrs. Dix and Dickin- 
son of New York, John M. Clayton of Delaware, 
Reverdy Johnson of Maryland, "Willie P. Mangum 
of IT. Carolina, McDuffie of - S. Carolina, Berrien of 
Georgia, Dixon H. Lewis of Alabama, Crittenden 
of Kentucky, Corwin of Ohio, Hannegan and Bright 
of Indiana, Atchison and Benton of Missouri, and 
Cass of Michigan. To these were added during the 
session, from the new State, Texas, Gen. Houston and 
Mr. Eusk. 

The President's chair was filled by the urbane and 
courtly George M. Dallas, whose abundant hair, 
white as wool, a beautiful crown to his graceful per 
son, and whose dignified, high-bred manner, seemed 
to qualify him peculiarly for his place. I shall 
never forget one example of his good breeding. The 
State of Arkansas was represented at that time by 
Messrs Ashley and Sevier, who were in the habit of 
pronouncing its name differently — Arkansas and Ar- 
kans^w. In recognizing them upon the floor, Mr. 
Dallas never failed to say, " The Senator from Ar- 
kansas" or "the Senator from Arkans&w," accord- 
ing to each man's use of the accent. But, high 
over all their colleagues, in authoritative influence, 
power, and the general estimation, towered Daniel 
Webster and John C. Calhoun, two of the immortal 
triumvirate of the Senate. Mr. Clay had resigned 
his seat in 1842, disgusted at the ingratitude of the 



CHAPTEES FKOK AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. l£9 

Whig party, as manifested by tlie chicanery of its 
leaders in the nomination of Gen. Harrison for the 
Presidency in 1840, and subsequently by the defection 
of Mr. Tyler from the Whig ranks after attempting 
by every means in his power to deprive Mr. Clay of 
the leadership of the party. The high-souled Ken- 
tuckian had become wearied out by the turmoil, 
strife and unsatisfactoriness of political life. And 
well he might have been, as let the following unre- 
corded fact attest. On Gen. Harrison's election to 
the Presidency, he paid a visit to Ashland to ask Mr. 
Clay if there were anything in the gift of the govern- 
ment he would accept, and to take counsel with him 
as to the policy to be pursued by his administration. 
Mr. Clay declined all offers, whether of foreign minis- 
tries or cabinet appointments, and declared his 
intention to remain in the Senate. 

The President then said, you must allow me to con- 
sider you my most honored and confidential adviser, 
and I trust you will ever feel free to give me your best 
and constant counsel. At his instance, Mr. Clay named 
the men he thought fit for the head-ship of the dif- 
ferent departments, ail of whom, I believe, were 
offered seats in the Cabinet. But the new ad- 
ministration had not been mounted two weeks, before 
the evil reports of talebearers had so soured the 
mind of the President toward his most able and 
magnanimous friend, that he sent Mr. Clay a noto 



150 TEX YEAES OF PREACHEE-LIEE \ CE, 

requesting him, if he had advice to give, to be good 
enough to submit it in writing. 

Few speeches have ever been delivered in the 
Senate, wliich have so stirred and softened, not only 
the members within, but tiie nation without, as Mr. 
Clay's leave-taking of the Senate in 1843. 

His seat was now filled by Mr. Crittenden, one of 
the ablest statesmen as well as most accomplished de- 
baters of the body. It was always pleasant to hear the 
tones of his silvery voice and his steady flow of good 
sense, mingled with good humor, in diction sometimes 
of classical purity. Mr. McDuffie, stricken in the 
prime of his brilliant career by the bullet from a 
duellist's pistol, and in consequence of which his 
system shrivelled and shrank, went tottering about 
the chamber, leaning upon a long staff, a frightful 
monument of the fiendish effects of the "code of 
honor." Itr. Hannegan, whose fine nature and 
admirable powers were even then being undermined 
by a passion for strong drink, stood forth as the 
avowed champion of the " 54 40 or fight " 
doctrine, as it was called ; for this, as so many other 
sessions of Congress, before and since, was disgraced 
by an attempt, on the part of a number of prominent 
politicians of the bullying and badgering school, to 
get up a war with England. A few years previous to 
this time, the "Webster and Ashburton treaty, by its 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 151 

settlement of our northeastern boundary line, had 
effaced a cause of trouble between the two countries. 

Another was now brought up in the unsettled 
northwestern boundary, which some of the hot- 
blooded western men insisted should be run along 
the parallel — fifty-four degrees, forty minutes. The 
President, before his election, had committed himself 
to this line, but on coining into office, found it 
opposed by the facts of history and the dictates of 
honor; and, together with his Cabinet, he was 
endeavoring to recede from a position to which he 
had been unwittingly hurried by the vehemence of 
partisan politics, and to assume a stand justified by 
right and the national conscience. This course was 
branded by the war party, of which Mr. Hannegan 
was the spokesman, as an attempt to " craw-fish," 
and the President was obliged to have recourse to an 
alliance between a minority of his own party in the 
Senate, composed of its more wise and pacific men, 
and his political antagonists the "Whigs, to save his ad- 
ministration from a disgrace, and the country from a 
dishonorable and bloody war. The speechifying, 
caucusing, and manceuvering, which grew out of this 
attempt, formed a droll, and, I confess, very humili- 
ating spectacle, to an ardent young patriot just 
emerged from the woods, and who was disposed to 
look upon affairs through a rose-colored medium. 

Colonel Benton was a striking figure, see him wli^o 



152 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

you. would, whether sauntering through the capital, 
his hat stuck slightly on one side of his head, or 
standing in his place delivering himself a good deal 
in " Sir Oracle 55 style of speeches, not agreeable 
from a graceful manner and pleasing elocution, but 
impressive and convincing from their sturdy inde- 
pendence, cogent arguments, and the immense stores 
of digested learning which they displayed. Notwith- 
standing his strong partisan bias, his view of a subject 
was still comprehensive, and his support of it, by an 
array of facts, dates and figures, almost irresistible. 

Mr. Calhoun was much given to pacing the corri- 
dor back of the President's chair, in conversation 
with a friend, or buried in rumination. Careless of 
his appearance, slouching in his gait, his tall, spare 
figure bent, there was little about him to arrest the 
casual glance as he passed you, one hand behind his 
back, the other grasping and sometimes flourishing 
an immense East India handkerchief. But as you 
looked more narrowly at him, at the not very large 
head covered with a mass of rather wiry,, iron-grey 
hair, the wrinkled brow and attenuated face, wherein 
both, nose and mouth told of uncompromising deci- 
sion, and from which the eyes, in moods of excite- 
ment, shone like live coals of fire, you felt yourself to 
be In the presence of a king of men. His manner of 
articulation, in conversation as well as in public 
speech, was abrupt, rapid, and almost crabbed ; his 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 153 

average was one hundred and eighty words to a 
minute, his style was sententious, dogmatic and 
authoritative; sometimes negligent of grammatical 
structure and elegant pronunciation, it neverthe- 
less at once arrested, and then riveted you by its 
clear, cogent reasoning, its directness and sincerity. 
His speeches were delivered standing in one of 
the narrow aisles of the Senate Chamber, bracing 
himself by grasping the desk on either side of him, 
while his right hand occasionally flourished his ban- 
dana: they were totally destitute of the graces of 
manner peculiar to Mr. Clay's, and of the elaborate 
finish of composition characterizing Mr. "Webster's. 
For an hour (he hardly delivered a speech which 
lasted longer) he poured forth a vehement stream of 
logic, free from personal asperity, in homely, and for 
the most part, idiomatic English. He seeixted to be 
the logical understanding embodied ; he claimed 
no suffrage from your sympathy, he levied no tribute 
upon your admiration, he convinced you, or demanded 
that you should answer him by arguments as con- 
vincing, and by logic as passionless as his own. There 
was little of the orator, and nothing of the poet about 
him ; his intellect was eminently metaphysical ; and 
yet his frank and generous spirit, the unsullied purity 
and ingenuous nobleness of his character, attached 
men to him as with links of steel. He delighted in 
debate, and like most politicians, in vaticination, 



154 TEN TEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OB, 

That instinct of our nature apparent in all women 
and most men, for predicting the future and foretell- 
ing its dread secrets, and self-felicitatingly, in the one 
time out of fifty that it is correct, expressing itself in 
the well known phrase, " I told you it would be so," 
but taking no notice of its forty-nine mistakes, finds 
its culmination among our politicians. You cannot 
spend a week in the capital without hearing at least 
a hundred prophesies, nor hear an oration from a 
distinguished member or senator without being 
reminded that in the horoscope of the nation which 
lie drew in his speech on such a day, in such a year, he 
foretold the occurrence of the events which they now 
discuss ; and you at length come to believe that a 
knowledge of astrology is necessary to the practice of 
statesmanship. 

Mr. Calhoun's mind was incisive rather than com- 
prehensive ; more the disciple of Aristotle than of 
Plato or Bacon, preferring deduction to induction; 
holding both you and himself to his irresistibly rea- 
soned conclusions from his accepted premises. It 
grew more from contact with men and affairs, than by 
the study of books ; more by the athletic exercise of 
conversation, than by a familiar acquaintance with the 
sages of the past. He delighted in young men, as 
indeed did both his illustrious rivals, Clay and "Web- 
ster, and by impressing himself in full, free, fascinating 
talk upon their receptive minds and kindled sensibi- 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 155 

lities, lie created a self-perpetuating influence which 
cannot soon decay. 

The eve of a discerning visitor, in its first rapid 
sweep of the chamber, would make its first pause, 
and then fix its steady and oft-repeated gaze upon a 
figure seated almost on a line with the Yice-Presi- 
dent, and half way between the secretary's desk and 
the door. The head, which seemed to belong to 
Jupiter, with its immense domelike brow beetling 
over the cavernous depths, from which, like dia- 
monds, glowed his eyes, the noble contour of the 
face, and shoulders broad enough for Atlas, satis- 
fied you that this was Mr. "Webster, or the im- 
mortal "Black Dan, 55 as he was sometimes loosely 
called in Washington. There was something about 
him to inspire awe, and your self-confidence had a 
trick of deserting you, as you addressed him. A sin- 
gular illustration of the power of his bodily presence 
to awaken the imagination and create an illusion in 
regard to himself, is the fact, that everybody thought 
him a very large and heavy man ; whereas, for many 
years of his life, his weight was 148 pounds. But as 
the reserve (which, by the way, characterizes the 
northern and eastern men in Washington as elsewhere, 
differencing them from the men of the South and 
West) wore off, you found him to be a most delight- 
ful companion, abounding in glee, sportive anecdote, 
and a love of merriment. His talk was full of wis- 



156 TEIST YEARS OF PKEACHER-LIFE J 0E, 

m 

dom, learning, wit and humor. I think I ha^e 
never known another man with, a memory so 
stored with historical, agricultural, geographical, 
topographical, legal and personal information. He 
had an eye for fine oxen, and an ear for old psalms 
and tunes. He could repeat poetry by the hour, 
seemed to know the Bible by heart, and was an 
unfailing story-teller; his fund of knowledge was 
exhaustless and his^ use of it was as accurate as it 
was profound ; his style of speaking was grave and 
measured, and so exquisite was his taste in words, 
that he would often pause until the hesitation became 
embarrassing to every one but himself, to call up the 
proper one, for none other would he use. Some- 
times he would remodel his sentence, refusing to pro- 
ceed until the precise phrase to convey the very 
shade of thought came obedient to his will; as wit- 
ness the following examples : " We want," said he, 
speaking of the necessity of a national bank, " an 
institution that shall — an institution that has — an 
odor of nationality about it ;" and the applause that 
followed attested the force and the felicity of the 
figure. Making a speech on the great "Wheeling 
Bridge case, before the Supreme Court of the United 
States, he said: "Now, your honors, we want the 
bank to come out — to show its hand — to render up — 
to give forth — to disgorge !" and the last word was 
given with such emphasis that it seemed to weigh 



CHAPTEES FKOM AK AUTOBIOGKRAPHY. 157 

about twelve pounds. I have seen him stand in the 
Supreme Court room, engaged in an argument, halt- 
ing for a word, "with his hands inserted into the 
mouth of his trowsers-pockets, and as the right 
expression began to dawn upon him, his relief was 
betokened by the gradual slipping of his hands 
deeper in ; but when it came, they went down with 
such a force that you felt the sewing must be good 
or the muslin strong that could resist the shock. It 
may be a fact worth knowing, that Mr. "Webster's 
immense head continued to grow sensibly throughout 
his life, insomuch that it was necessary for him to 
wear a hat one size larger, every four or five years. 
There is no need, however, that I should attempt an 
analysis of his colossal intellect or a description of 
its public working : that task has been and will be 
performed by abler hands than mine. Clay, "Webster 
and Calhoun, entering the theatre of affairs almost 
side by side, their lives and influence mark an era 
in our national history. The previous race of our 
statesmen had conceived and expressed their ideal 
of a national organization, but as yet, it was little 
else than an ideal. They had shown a most penetra- 
tive insight into the constitution of man and the 
wants of society ; they had shown a transcendent 
wisdom; but still it was by the force of abstract 
Intellect, grasping the great cardinal doctrines of 
humanity, and interpreting their present import in 



158 TEN" YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

the signs of the times, that they had erected the 
magnificent fabric of American Liberty. It was the 
task of succeeding men to apply these new senti- 
ments, to devise measures to meet the exigencies of 
the country, to correct the errors of speculative intel- 
ligence, and to embody generalities in the safe form 
of practical adaptation. Men cannot foresee the 
changes of society. The laws of circumstance are 
not disclosed to mortal eyes. It is a province of 
thought and action that God reserves to his 
personal supremacy, and from which, he is ever 
sending forth, in varying intervals of years and cen- 
turies, the reforming or revolutionizing powers of the 
world. A few simple and permanent principles are 
all that a government can safely pledge itself to 
uphold, and consequently it will not fail to provide a 
certain degree of elasticity, by which the' machinery 
of political operation may be so modified as to suit 
the necessary mutations of all earthly interests. It is 
in this department of statesmanship, that skill finds 
its most onerous burdens and heaviest responsibilities, 
and it was here that the great minds, so lately taken 
from us, were called to the service of their country. 
A vast field for private ambition and patriotic effort 
was here opened before them, and without exaggera- 
tion, it may be said that it afforded opportunities for 
impressing the genius of the age, and imparting an 
impulse to the progress of society, which have 



CHAPTERS FROM AK AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



159 



scarcely been surpassed in the annals of our race. 
Let any man review the events of the last fifty years, 
and he will have an idea of the magnitude of those 
difficulties which taxed the ingenuity and patience 
of our second generation of statesmen. Who could 
have anticipated these wonderful movements ? Who 
could have divined the sources whence they sprang, 
the lateral connections they would form, or the 
direction which they would take ? "Who could have 
foretold the effects on England of her East India pos- 
sessions — the results of Napoleon's wars — or appreci- 
ated the sudden growth of Russia and the convulsions 
of South America ? Who could have estimated the 
consequences of Whitney's invention of the Cotton- 
gin, or Fulton's application of steam to navigation ? 
And lastly, who could have imagined, that within so 
narrow a compass, all the educational and benevo- 
lent enterprises of our time, would have been urged 
forward with such mighty zeal to issues so stupen- 
dous ! Amid these exciting scenes, when incidents 
were converted into events, and the energies of men 
everywhere were receiving an almost supernatural 
enhancement, our young country was to take her 
place among the ruling powers of the earth — to 
insure respect and honor by the demonstration of 
her capabilities— to govern herself, both in relation to 
her citizens at home and communities abroad — to 
call out her strength and yet discipline it to the 



160 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

work before her — and above all, to set an example 
of moral dignity that should immortalize the virtues 
of republican character. Could statesmanship have 
been more severely tasked ? All experience had 
failed — all history had been belied — all " the founda- 
tions of the earth were out of course and yet in the 
presence of such difficulties, in the full recognition of 
their amazing vastness, and in the calm trust of their 
own faculties, these men conducted our country 
through her dangers and exacted from the world a 
tribute to her grandeur. 

The highest order of statesmanship was demanded 
in this era of our national history. To conceive a 
great and good system of government can scarcely 
fail to be considered the noblest exercise of the 
human mind. All the records of our race confirm 
this assertion. The fortunes of government are sus- 
pended on legislative wisdom and administrative 
integrity; and it is in this connection, that the 
services of Calhoun, Clay, and Webster are worthy 
of the most liberal commendation. They were trained 
among the people. "WTienever they represented the 
people, it w r as a representation in fact, as well as in 
form. They cherished its spirit, spoke its lan- 
guage, and obeyed its will. The sacredness of the 
people's homes and altars was never forgotten, and to 
its authenticated rights, they were never insensible. 
The influence of the people was then direct and 



CHAPTERS FEOM A3T AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 161 

immediate, for newspapers had not as yet established 
themselves as a secondary power between representa- 
tives and constituents. Such a state of circumstances 
enabled the statesmen to act personally and freely 
upon the mind of the country, whose public opinion 
was then under their control ; editors and contribu- 
tors had not then invaded their dominion, hence 
the full power of their position devolved upon them. 
The necessary results of this relation may be easily 
apprehended. Men in political life were formed to 
independent thought, and measures were adopted on 
their own merits. The numerous agencies that now 
exert themselves through the press, could contribute 
neither .their wisdom nor folly, in any considerable 
degree, to the legislative intellect of the country, and 
personal responsibility in the halls of the nation was 
compelled to feel the magnitude of its trust. The 
various elements of political and social life were 
never more favorably combined for the development 
of great character. Talents were adequately appre- 
ciated. Wisdom was revered. Patriotism was a 
hallowed name. Everything gave value to mental 
endowments and virtuous services. The profound 
thinker, the far-sighted politician, the philosophic 
statesman, were then in the ascendant, and their 
superiority was acknowledged. Genius and worth 
had no temptation to stand in the market-place and 
court popularity. Demagogism had not learned its 



162 TEN" TEARS OF PKEACHEE-LIFE J OE, 

modern arts. Shufflers and tricksters Had not yen 
tured on their political caricatures. The word 
" Humbug " was not known, and pantomime was 
confined to theatrical boards. The whole country 
leaned upon its strong men, and confessed its obliga- 
tions to them, for confidence in systems had not yet 
betrayed it into indifference to personal endowments. 
The magic of machinery had not imposed upon its 
senses, nor had the lapse of time begotten a sort of 
superstitions belief, that the government could take 
care of itself. Popular knowledge had not been dif- 
fused, the masses of the people had not been edu- 
cated; every schoolboy was not then a politician, and 
debating societies did not settle tariff questions. 
Women's Eights conventions had not threatened their 
parliamentary authority over rebellious husbands, 
nor issued their edicts against St. Paul and other 
weak apostles. Brains, in that day, were not bought 
or sold ; encyclopedias had not become substitutes 
for study. Europe was not our next-door neighbor ; 
railroads, belting the land, and telegraphs, spanning 
the air, had not been invented ; men had not then 
realized their strength. Self -consciousness had not 
become a disease, nor self-reliance a fanatical extra- 
vagance. The transition period had just commenced, 
and American Mind was preparing for its new instal- 
lation. The thoughtful intellects of the country 
began to see that there was more involved in the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 163 

struggle for independence than they had imagined, 
and ere they were aware, they found themselves in a 
partnership with the mightiest forces of the universe 
in behalf of eternal truth and divine right. A tow- 
ering mountain summit had been gained ; could the 
dizzy elevation be maintained ? could the rarefied air 
be breathed ? could Freedom dwell on such a 
heavenward height? and around its youthful form 
could it fold the clouds in which the fierce lightning 
hid its fire, or the wild tornado held its fury ? Such 
were the questions which the statesmanship of that 
time had to answer, and answer, too, out of its own 
mind and heart. "Whatever virtue is in circum- 
stances, our departed statesmen were accessible to its 
complete influence. Whatever endowments Nature 
had bestowed upon them, there was ample room for 
their exertion and display. They were secure in 
Jieir position, for the seal of the age was upon them. 
Accepted by their countrymen as the leading spirits 
of their nation, and marked by Providence for a 
great work, what remained for them, but to receive 
their anointing, and consecrate their royalty of mind 
to the cause of humanity ? 

There is one ^Ler fact that gives a most impres- 
sive interest to tlufir personal and political position. 
The moral of our Revolution was the character of its 
Me^-. Our strength lay in kind, not in degree. 
Compute it by arithmetic, and it seems feeble and 



164 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ] OR, 

impotent, but measure it by intellectual and impas- 
sioned sentiments, and the number swells into an 
" exceeding great army." Providence has often 
illustrated this principle ; Greece was a small coun- 
try, so was Judea, and yet, what vast power went 
forth from their narrow limit! Science may well 
take pleasure in the insignificant. The coral insect 
may justly be magnified as the builder of continents, 
and the humble bee, acknowledged as the first of 
architects. But if we wish the most significant ex- 
ample of this law, we must turn to the providential 
connections of man: a great truth enlarges his 
personality, everything receives his overflowing 
life, the winds and waves help him, all nature 
takes sides with him, the very angels do his bid- 
ding. Our early struggle was the struggle of true 
and strong-hearted men; men who perilled all for 
principle ; who valued their cause more than them- 
selves, and invoked the martyr-spirit to baptize them 
for their work. Is it, then, strange, that the public 
opinion of the country attached such importance to 
men? The history of "Washington was before it. 
Any one of its pages was sufficient to redeem 
the name of Man, to establish confidence in his 
noble capacities. Our best lesson was learned from 
him. It was not the mere fact of his greatness, but 
• the peculiar type of that greatness which instituted 
the heraldry of our land. If, then, our statesmen 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 165 

would be honored and loved, such are the asso- 
ciations they must covet, in that constellation they 
must fix theij 1 star. Standing beside them in 
their opening career, we may easily imagine the ani- 
mated sentiments and fervent aspirations that quick- 
ened the intellects and warmed the hearts of our 
illustrious Trio. That portion of their biography 
is already written. Every man has done it for him- 
self. Shall the sequel realize the glowing fancy? 
The conditions of greatness are a severe tax on our 
wisdom and fortitude ; the sternest laws have to be 
implicitly and devoutly obeyed ; the hands must 
never weary, nor the feet ever falter ; our country 
must be our better self, and Heaven infuse energy 
into every generous thought and heroic action. 



166 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OB, 



CHAPTER XIV. 

SOCIAL LIFE IN WASHINGTON, AND SOME OF ITS 
TRADITIONS. 

To one whose enjoyment of society is not im- 
paired, by a conventional bondage of fashionable 
routine, and whose taste is not vitiated by the spirit 
of exclusiveness, "Washington offers greater attrac- 
tions than any other city of the country. Around the 
great officers of State, are gathered persons from 
every part of the Republic, representing all profes- 
sions and types of character. Kearly every man 
in Congress has made himself noteworthy at home 
by some gift or accomplishment ; he can play the 
fiddle well, tell a good story, manage a caucus, make 
an effective speech, indite striking paragraphs, laugh 
loud and long, listen complaisantly while others talk, 
talk fluently and copiously himself, or has a pretty 
and clever wife. These gifts and graces are, of 
course, brought to the Federal Capital, and invested 
in the joint stock company of social life. The small 
salaries pail to American officials, and the drain of 
politics on the pocket, used to keep the mass of our 
statesmen in moderate, not to say humble circum 



CHAPTERS FEO^I AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 167 

stances. The new comer was therefore struck by the 
unpretending plainness of the houses and furniture, 
and the simplicity of the menage of our lawgivers. 
The noble public edifices, some of them yet in course 
of erection, formed as striking a contrast with the 
private residences of "Washington, as did those of 
Rome before the time of Csesar. The White House 
itself, except for an occasional gorgeous carpet, by its 
meagre and almost bare appearance, would have 
satisfied the requirements of the austerest democrat ; 
nevertheless the doors of hospitality stood open to 
all, and while the fare was, for the most part, frugal, 
it was rendered acceptable by open-handed kindness. 
A President's levee is probably the most curious and 
characteristic expression of our individual, social and 
national peculiarities, to be seen in any single specta- 
cle throughout the country. K~o cards of invitation 
are issued, but notice is given through the news- 
papers, that on a stated evening of every alternate 
week, the Chief Magistrate will receive his fellow 
citizens. The first and last of the season are usually 
the most interesting. At eight o'clock the pedes- 
trians begin to arrive, and by nine the carriages 
are depositing their loads at the main entrance of the 
executive mansion. The President stands in a little 
reception room, with the ladies of his household on 
his right, and on his left the Marshal of the District 
of Columbia, who, in a very unostentatious way, per* 



168 YEARS OF PREACHEB-LIFE J OB, 

forms the duty of grand chamberlain, announcing 
to his excellency the names of such parties as he 
may know. The President, generally, his left 
hand gloved and his right hand bared, spends two 
hours shaking hands with an uncounted crowd, in such 
a way as to make the impression on each person, that 
lie, the President, is particularly delighted to see Mm } 
and that if he had only a little more time, he would 
vastly enjoy a tete-a-tete. The procession files past 
the President into the great east-room, where prom- 
enading is the order of the evening, until the press 
renders it impossible. Here are officers of the army 
and navy in uniform; foreign ministers with their 
stars and ribbons, public functionaries of every 
grade ; merchants, shopkeepers, mechanics ; sometimes 
a group of backwoods hunters or Indian chiefs ; and 
women of every age and condition, in magnificent 
toilets or rustic gear, yet all good-humored and 
polite. I fancy that it must the most extraordinary 
social medley to be witnessed anywhere. All seem 
to feel that the occasion has equalized them, 
there is neither obsequious suppleness on the one 
hand, or haughty condescension on the other, and I 
have never known a deviation from the rules of good 
behavior. The band of the marine corps discourses 
good music from a distant part of the building, and 
the time for dispersion is indicated by the perform- 
ance of " Sweet Home," or " Yankee Doodle.' 5 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 169 

President Polk's coachman,' a colored man named 
Gee, used to interest me very much at these times. 
He officiated in the gentlemen's dressing-room, 
receiving and returning hats, coats, canes, etc. A 
party of a dozen would enter together and pass over 
to him their exterior habiliments, and almost before 
he had time to deposit these, another group "would 
be waiting for him ; yet, such was his power of indi- 
vidualization, that I never knew him fail to hand to 
every person his appropriate belongings, and that on 
the instant. His was the most remarkable power of 
memory I have ever met. 

The asperities of debate, and the sharpness of sec- 
tional views, are very apt to be modified and softened 
by the free and easy dinner parties and the evening 
reunions of the capital ; and these assemblages 
are often more potent for the shaping and success 
of measures, than is the committee-room or even 
the Legislative Hall. It is rarely the case that 
the partisan contests of Congress interfere with the 
private social relations of the members. "When 
Washington society, as well as the two houses, is 
divided into northern and southern cliques^ we may 
expect the dissolution of the Union ; but so long as 
the member from Maine dines in the evening with 
the member from Louisiana, whose speech he demo- 
lished in the morning ; or the senators from Massa- 
chusetts and Alabama go home arm in arm from a 

8 



170 TEN YEARS OF PEEACHER-LEFE \ OK, 



pleasant little supper, notwithstanding they railed at 
each other in the forenoon's debate ; the patriot has 
little reason to fear the exhibitions of our wordy 
gladiators. Cold and austere indeed must be the 
nature which does not relax and soften under the 
influence of hospitable cheer and good company, 
and the failure of many an honorable member tc 
fulfill the pledges made to his constituents in the 
canvass, is to be attributed to the charm and magnetic 
power of the dinner-table. I am satisfied that 
the stigma of doughface-ism. imputed to political 
cowardice, is, for the most part, the natural and 
almost inevitable result of good victual and drink, 
dispensed and received with genial courtesy and 
graceful cordiality ; and that what is often stig- 
matized as treachery to a man's party, is nothing 
more or less than a testimony to the strength of his 
own refined social nature. Xowhere are fine conver- 
sational powers and engaging manners more effective 
than in the capital: many a man who is almost 
dumb in the halls of Congress, and of whom the 
newspaper-reading community hears little or nothing, 
nevertheless wields immense power, and succeeds in 
carrying or thwarting many a scheme, in virtue of 
these accomplishments. 

The power of women in political affairs is not a 
recognized fact in our republican metropolis, as in the 
French court before the revolution, and yet the spell 



CHAPTEES FKOM AN AUTOBIOGKAPHY. 171 



of bright eyes and sweet voices is not only mighty in 
deciding the fate of private bills, the appointment 
and confirmation of friends to office, but often affects 
the entire policy of the government*. The library of 
Congress, a magnificent room on the west side of the 
capitol, is not so much a cloister for book-worms and 
plodding students, as a superb drawing-room, where 
fashion and beauty hold daily court, and where 
honorable members may seek occasional relief from 
the platitudes of debate, in proffering delicate atten- 
tions to their fair countrywomen. I have observed, 
that while women are very apt to tire of their seats 
in the galleries, and to yawn over the public dis- 
quisitions of their friends on the floor below, their 
interest at once grows profound and unflagging when 
the oratory is exchanged for conversation, and she 
becomes, instead of one in a thousand, the sole 
listener. Many of the ablest forensic efforts that 
have graced the capitol were never chronicled 
in the " Congressional Globe" but are treasured 
alone in the single heart to which they were_ ad- 
dressed. 

One hears many anecdotes of our public men from 
the lips of their coevals, and I may be allowed to 
mention some of them in this place. John Ran- 
dolph, of Roanoke, is the hero of many a racy 
story. After the last war with Great Britain, 
the House was engaged in the discussion of the cui* 



172 TEN TEAKS OF PEEACHEE-LIEE j OE, 



renay question. Mr. Calhoun, one of the youngest 
but foremost members, toward whom Mr. Eandolph. 
entertained the strongest feelings of antipathy, was 
making an elaborate speech, in which, he declared 
that no statute of the country required the tender of 
gold or silver for revenue. Mr. Eandolph, who sat 
near Mr. "Webster, leaned toward him and inquired 
if this were so; the latter replied that he thought not, 
and calling a page, desired him to bring a certain 
volume of the Statutes at Large, in which he found a 
law requiring the payment of postage in gold and 
silver. He handed the volume to Eandolph, who 
glanced at the statute and returned it to the page, 
that it might be replaced on the shelves behind the 
speaker's chair. Slowly rising, he interrupted Mr. 
Calhoun, and desired to know through the speaker, 
whether the gentleman from South Carolina felt posi- 
tive as to the accuracy of his assertion. Mr. Calhoun 
replied that he did. Mr. Eandolph responded, in 
that irritating tone which none better than he knew 
how and when to use, that he had doubts as to the 
honorable member's correctness. Mr. Calhoun, much 
chafed, retorted with asperity — that he considered the 
interruption undignified and contemptible — that he 
had examined all the statutes and knew his position 
to be impregnable. Mr. Eandolph then summoned 
the page to bring him the desired volume, and open* 
ing it, as if by accident, at the very leaf, sent it to 



CHAPTERS FROM AK AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 173 



Mr. Calhoun, with the request that he should read it to 
the House. The latter was so much disconcerted that 
he took his seat, covered with confusion. 

The great Virginian, a lifelong victim to sore dis- 
ease, was at the same time subject to great depres- 
sion of spirits, at which times he was in hourly expec- 
tation of death. Imperious in his friendship as in his 
disdain, he would require the attendance of his 
friends at his bedside, that they might see him breathe 
his last. On one of these occasions, his servants went 
flying through the town, bearing messages to various 
persons for whom he felt esteem, desiring them to 
hasten to him immediately, if they would see him die. 
Most of them were dressed or dressing for parties ; 
but, obedient to the mandate, came in hot haste to 
his lodgings. The emaciated invalid, apparently at 
the last pulse, surveyed his guests, and saw officers of 
both arms of the service in full uniform, and a groizp 
of gentlemen, old and young, in full evening dress. 
Scanning them narrowly, he asked, in a faint, husky 
whisper, " are there any but Yirginians here V Some 
one answering, No ; he said, " turn the key in the door, 
I wish none but my compatriots to see me die." 
" Gentlemen," he continued, " I want you to promise 
me, that as soon as the breath leaves my body, yon 
will carry me across the Potomac, into the old Do- 
minion. Bury me like a gentleman, at my own 
expense, and not like pauper Dawson," a member of 



174 TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIEE ; OE, 



Congress wlio had died a few days before and had been 
buried, after" congressional usage, at the public cost. 
The excitement attendant upon the delivery of these 
remarks seemed to give him strength, and he proceed- 
ed — " I find that I have a few minutes more to live, 
and I should like to spend them in asking you some 
questions." Addressing an officer of the army who 

stood near him : " Colonel T , where were you 

educated ?" "At Tale College, sir." " At Tale Col- 
lege," he repeated in contemptuous tones, " among the 
Yankees ? "Was your father such a fool, sir, as to sup- 
pose that the Yankees could teach a gentleman any- 
thing?" Turning to another he said, "And where 
were you educated, Mr. P ?" " At South Caro- 
lina College, sir." "In South Carolina;" and then 
with increasing warmth and deepening scorn, " and 
your father sent you to the State which produced 
John C. Calhoun, and that for an education." As he 
continued his questioning, he found that every man 
present had been educated out of Virginia, and at 
last became so furious, that springing from his bed, he 
determined not to die at that time, and so dismissed 
those who had come to be mourners at a funeral. 

I cannot forbear to insert here the following inci- 
dent related by Mr. Benton. On one occasion he 
wanted some gold ; that coin not being then in cir- 
culation, and only to be obtained by favor or pur- 
chase, he sent his faithful man Johnny to the Uni- 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 175 

ted States Branch. Bank to get a few pieces, Ameri- 
can "being the kind asked for. Johnny returned 
"without the gold, delivering the excuse that the 
bank had none. Instantly, Mr. Randolph's clear 
silver-toned voice was heard above its natural pitch, 
exclaiming, " their name is legion, and they are liars 
from the beginning. Johnny, bring me my horse." 
His own saddle-horse was brought him, for he never 
rode Johnny's nor Johnny his, though both, and all 
his hundred horses, were of the finest English blood, 
and he rode off to the bank, now Corcoran & Bigg's, 
down Pennsylvania Avenue, Johnny following, as 
always, forty paces behind. Arriving at the bank, 
this scene took place. "Mr. Randolph asked for the 
state of his account, was shown it, and found it to bo 
some four thousand dollars in his favor. He de- 
manded the sum. The teller took up packages of 
bills and civilly asked in what sized notes he would 
have it. i I want money] said Mr. Randolph, empha- 
sizing the word — and at that time it required a bold 
man to intimate that United States Bank notes were 
not money. The teller, beginning to understand him, 
said inquiringly, ' Tou want silver V ' I want my 
money,' was the reply. Then the teller, lifting boxes 
to the counter, said politely, 6 Have you a cart, Mr. 
Randolph, to put it in?' 'That is my business, sir,' 
said he. By this time, the attention of the cashief 
was attracted to what was going on ; he cauie up, and 



176 TEH YEARS OF PRE ACHES-LIFE J OR, 



understanding the question and its cause, told Mr. 
Randolph there was a mistake in the, answer given 
to his servant ; that they had gold, and he should 
have what he wanted. 

" In fact, he had only applied for a few pieces for a 
special purpose. A compromise was effected, the 
pieces of gold were received, the cart and the silver 
dispensed with ; but the account with this bank was 
closed, and a check taken for the amount on K~ew 
York." 

The following story of General Jackson has 
never before, to my .knowledge, seen the light. 
When he demanded of Louis Philippe indemnity 
for the spoliation of our commerce, the commercial 
interest was panic-struck in apprehension of cer- 
tain war, and our land was filled with the invec- 
tives hurled by the newspaper organs of the moneyed 
classes against the great President and his policy. 
It was said that he was either a blockhead or a 
ruffian ; either unable to count the cost of war, or 
regardless of the waste of blood and treasure; 
determined to pursue his narrow and ignorant 
schemes, whatever the risk to the nation. One 
of the justices of the Federal Supreme Court was 
about this period taking the great eastern cities 
en route from his western home to the capital, 
spending some time in Boston, ISTew York, Phila* 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 177 

delphia and Baltimore. As he was known to be 
intimate with the President, he was waited upon by 
many bankers and merchants of these places, who 
urged him to remonstrate with the General against 
the folly and wickedness of his course ; representing 
that our commerce would be crushed and that all our 
interests would be ruined in the unequal nay hope- 
less contest with the great monarchy. They knew, 
they said, the belligerent disposition of the French 
king, and that his people were not only prepared, but 
eager for war, and the judge was implored in the 
most moving tones, to use his best powers, as a patriot, 
in averting the threatened collision, and to secure the 
fadeless wreath of the peacemaker. 

Reaching Washington, just before the commence- 
ment of the session, when the war message was to be 
sent to Congress, the judge called to pay his respects 
to the President, and before long the topic of the 
day was introduced. " Well, Judge," said- the old 
chieftain, " what do they think of my war policy in 
the great cities ? 55 The judge, who had really been 
very much impressed by what he had heard, stated 
in concise but strong terms, the remonstrance with 
which he had been charged. The President, laugh- 
ing long and heartily, said, " What fools they are !" 
Opening his desk, he produced a map of France and 
a couple of letters. The map showed at a glance the 
departments which produced wine and silk, and on 



178 TEN YEARS OF PKEACHER-LIFE J OK, 

its margin was a tabular statement, showing the 
.number of the deputies in the chamber, sent from 
these, as compared with the other departments of the 
kingdom, by which it appeared that they had a 
strong majority in the legislative branch of the 
government. One of the letters was from Mr. Liv- 
ingston, the President's minister in Paris, announcing 
that he had the honor to forward with the ac- 
companying map and annexed information, pre- 
pared by himself and the French minister of 
foreign affairs, an autograph letter from Louis 
Philippe. In this the king of the French stated 
explicitly that he felt the justice of the American 
President's claim for indemnity, and was desirous 
to satisfy it, but that he was prevented from so doing 
by the impracticable temper of his chamber of depu- 
ties ; that as the President would see from the map, its 
majority was composed of members from those depart- 
ments whose industry would be ruined by a war with 
the United States, yet that these were the very men 
who refused to vote the supplies to pay the debt. His 
majesty therefore urged the President to threaten 
immediate war unless the debt were paid, with the 
assurance that this measure would have the de- 
sired effect of alarming the intractable deputies into 
more equitable dispositions. 

The judge therefore joined the President's hearty 
laugh, and felt how groundless were the fears and 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 179 

how undeserved the bitter denunciations, poured out 
upon the head of the noble Tennesseean. 

Shortly after the battle of New Orleans, a confer- 
ence of Methodist preachers was being held in Nash- 
ville, Tennessee. My old friend Peter Cartwright 
was appointed to preach in one of the churches on 
Sunday evening. As he rose to announce his text, 
there was a stir in the crowded congregation; he 
paused until the excitement should subside. The 
pastor of the church took advantage of the oppor- 
tunity to pull the skirt of the preacher's coat and 
admonish him in a whisper, " Brother Cartwright, you 
must be careful how you preach to-night, General 
Jackson has just come in." In a loud tone, Cart- 
wright replied, " what do you suppose I care for 
General Jackson ; if he don't repent of his sins and 
believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, he will die and be 
damned like any other sinner," and then proceeded 
with his sermon. The next morning (both rose with 
the lark), as the preacher passed the general's 
quarters in his morning stroll, a servant ran after him 
with the message that General Jackson wished to speak 
with him. Turning, his hand was grasped by the 
hero, who shook it heartily, saying, " Sir, you are a man 
after my own heart ; if I had a regiment of men as brave 
as you, and you for the chaplain, I'd agree to conquer 
any country on earth." A strong friendship sprang 
up between these men, in whom were many points of 



180 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



resemblance. Mr. Cartwright happened to travel a 
circuit near the Hermitage and was often the 
general's guest. One Sunday, the preacher had 
gone home from church, with his friend and a num- 
ber of visitors, to dine. Among other persons at table, 
was a young Nashville lawyer, who desired to exhibit 
his wit at the expense of the backwoods preacher. 
Addressing him across the table, he said: "Mr. Cart- 
wright, do you really believe in any such place as 
Hell? I know you preach a great deal about it, and 
that's all very well, but I want your private opinion ; 
you are certainly too intelligent a man to believe 
anything of the kind." The lake of fire and brimstone 
was a prominent article in the preacher's creed. As 
he paused an instant to consider how best to answer 
a fool according to his folly, General Jackson, impetu- 
ously thumping the table with his knife, broke in, 
" Mr. Jones, I believe in a hell.'' " You, General 
Jackson," said the startled fledgling, " what possible 
use can you have for any such place ?" "To put 
such infernal fools as you in, shy" thundered the 
infuriated host. 

Notwithstanding the footing of easy familiarity on 
which social intercourse in Washington is conducted, 
there are certain .points of etiquette rigorously 
adhered to. The principal of these is the rank of 
the different functionaries of government, about which 
the feeling is as strong as in the army, and especially 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN AUTOBIOG-KAPHY. 



181 



among the wives of the parties concerned. For many 
years it was an open question in theory, whether 
foreign ministers, supreme judges, or senators should 
take precedence. It was, however, practically resolved 
by the overmastering influence of one man, Henry 
Clay, who contended that the representatives of the 
sovereign States of the Union occupied a position 
second only to that of the President, and so long as 
he lived, his social power maintained the superiority 
of the Senate; but since his death, the ambassadors 
and judges have carried their point, and the wives 
of senators must now therefore leave the first cards. 

I can give no better illustration of Mr. Clay's 
ascendency in social life, than the following incident, 
which took place during the session of Congress in 
the winter of 1840-41. The "Whigs had elected 
General Harrison by an overwhelming vote, and 
toward the end of the session, which was to be closed 
by his inauguration, a meeting of the leaders of the 
party was held, to form a programme for the new 
administration, and especially to determine whether 
' an extra session of .Congress should be called. The 
caucus was held at a famous restaurant, and was 
composed of twenty-three gentlemen, "Whig chieftains 
from every section of the Republic. Mr. Clay was 
resolved to have the extra session ; Colonel ¥m, C. 
Preston, of South Carolina, felt that to call it would 
be hazardous in the extreme, and might be ruinous to 



182 TEST YEARS OF PREACKER-LIFE \ OR, 

the party, which in truth it was. Knowing Mr 
Clay's immense power over men, Colonel Preston 
had visited every gentleman invited to the meeting, 
exchanged views with them, and found that his opin- 
ion in regard to the bad policy of the proposed 
measure was confirmed by every one of them except 
the great Eentuckian. Still, dreading Mr. Clay's 
authority, he pledged them to a manly support of 
these views in the forthcoming council. The meet- 
ing was initiated by an ample repast. When supper 
was announced, Mr. Clay led the way and took the 
head of the table, presiding with his accustomed 
grace and dignity, charming every one at table by 
his fine spirits and admirable talk. After the ser- 
vants had retired and the doors were locked, he called 
the meeting to order, announced the purpose for 
which, they were assembled, and in his masterly way 
unfolded his views upon the necessity of a called 
session. He then asked the opinions of the various 
gentlemen at the table, calling them, one after another ; 
by name, not in the order of their seats, but of their 
attachment to himself and their known submission 
to his leadership, so that Mr. Preston came last ; this 
gentleman had entered the room the file-leader of 
twenty-two men bound to uphold his views, and now 
found himself in a minority of one, for every man of 
them had deserted him. 

On another occasion, Mr. Clay felt called upon U 



CHAPTERS FR03I A2T AUTOBIO GPw APH Y. 183 



define his position on the subject of Slavery, and hav- 
ing carefully prepared his argument, he read it to 
Colonel Preston, at the same time asking his opinion 
of it ; "I quite agree with you in your views, Mr. 
Clay," replied the latter, " but I think it would be 
better for you to leave out such and such parts ; the 
expression of such opinions, I fear, will injure your 
prospects for the Presidency in my part of the coun- 
try." "Am I right sir?" said Mr. Clay. " I think 
you are, sir," replied the other. "Then, sir," with 
that generous pride and kindling ardor which made 
him so grand a nature to all who ever knew him, " I 
shall say every word of it and compromise not one jot 
or tittle. I would rather be right than be President." 

If any of my readers were ever fortunate enough 
to hear Mr. Clay tell the following story, they can 
never forget the inimitable grace and humor with 
which it was done. " While I was abroad, laboring 
to arrange the terms of the Treaty of Ghent, there 
appeared a report of the negotiations or letters rela- 
tive thereto, and several quotations from my remarks 
or letters, touching certain stipulations in the treaty, 
reached Kentucky and were read by my consti- 
tuents. Among them, was an old fellow who went 
by the nickname of 6 Old Sandusky. 5 He was read- 
ing one of these letters, one evening at a near resort, 
to a small collection of the neighbors. As he read 
on, he came across the sentence 'This must be 



184 TEN YEARS OP PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

deemed a sine qua non? ' What's a sine qua nonf 
said a half dozen by-standers. ' Old Sandusky ' was 
a little bothered at first, but his good sense and 
natural shrewdness was fully equal to a mastery of 
the Latin. 6 Sine — qua — non V said Old Sandusky, 
repeating the question very slowly ; 6 why, sine qua 
non is three islands in Passamaquoddy Bay, and 
Harry Clay is the last man to give them up ! "No 
sine qua non, no treaty, he says ; and he'll stick to 
it V " You should have seen the laughing eye, the 
change in the speaker's voice and manner, to under- 
stand the electric effect the story had upon his 
hearers. 

But of all the illustrious men whose presence has 
rendered the society of "Washington so justly cele- 
brated, no one has exercised a mightier fascination 
over the select circle he admitted to his intimacy, 
than Mr. Webster. You could scarce have thought, 
as you looked with an admiration that approached to 
awe, upon his colossal figure fitly overarched by his 
dome-like head, in the Senate or the Court Room, 
that he, so grave and venerable in dignity, so grand 
in port and speech, could yet be the most delightful 
and mirthful of companions. By the wealth of his 
memory, his fondness of story-telling, his enjoyment 
of a joke, and his keen sympathy, he shone as much 
at the table, as in the forum. £fo man could mom 
completely unbend, without forfeiting your respect, 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 185 

or excite greater pleasure, yet plant no thorn of 
regret. He talked of fat cattle and green fields, of 
fishing and shooting, of old hymns and divines of the 
colonial times, and of the curious experiences he had 
picked up in out-of-the-way places of life. Few 
men had seen more of society, its low places and 
high, than he, and no one ever enjoyed the varieties of 
a wide observation with a keener relish. Unspoiled 
by the world's applause, he retained his early simple 
tastes and habits to the last. Rising an hour before 
the Sun, in winter, with all his faculties refreshed— 
for, as he said, he had a genius for sleep — the first 
application of his new-born powers was to kindle all 
the fires about the house, for which task he thought 
himself to possess as great genius, as for sleep. 
Then, basket on arm, he sallied forth to provide the 
larder for the day, and to enjoy a friendly chat with 
the butcher and market women. Regular, for the 
most part, in his habits, he found early bed-time 
necessary to his early rising, and usually required 
seven, eight, or even nine hours of sleep. Neverthe- 
less, he would sometimes work twenty-four or even 
thirty-six hours continuously. His customary bed- 
time was between nine and ten, and tired na- 
ture would often assert her claims, despite .the 
usurpations of society ; for he has been seen to fall 
asleep upon his feet in a crowded drawing-room, and 
stand nid-nid-nodding, while those not familiar with 



186 TEST YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OE, 

him, shocked at the sight, would go out and say that 
they had seen Mr. "Webster drunk ; yet in all like- 
lihood, he had not tasted a glass of wine during the 
day. He never gambled, yet his purse was almost 
always low, notwithstanding his immense fees. He 
must have got rid of as much money as did Charles 
James Fox, although by entirely different methods. 
He was liberal to prodigality and charitable to a 
fault. When, upon one occasion, he had gained 
an important suit for a poor man, the client 
called upon Mr. Webster's associate to ask what 
the fee would be, remarking, at the same time, 
that he had only two hundred and fifty dollars to 
divide between them. The lawyer replied, that they 
had expected to receive five hundred apiece, but that 
he would call upon Mr. Webster and learn what he 
was willing to take. Listening to the poor man's 
plight, Mr. Webster said with inimitable naivete, " I 
supposed I should get five hundred, and I need the 
money; but I'll take the hundred and twenty-five, for 
to a man always as hard up as I am, a few hundred 
dollars more or less is neither here nor there. He 
was standing one day at the Capitol gate, engaged in 
earnest discourse with a brother senator, when he was 
interrupted by a poor woman, who began the recital 
of a pitiful tale. He cut her short by pulling a bank- 
note out of his pocket, thrust it into her hand, an(J 
proceeded with his animated talk. His colleague, 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 187 

— chairman of the Committee on Finance, and there* 
fore considered to be acute on money questions — had 
observed the operation and noted the denomination 
of the bill. Checking his interlocutor, he said : 
""Webster, do you know what you gave that beggar?" 
"JSTo," said the other, a little chafed by the interrup- 
tion; "five dollars, I suppose." "It was a hundred," 
said his friend. "It is no matter " replied the other, 
" she needed it more than I did." 

The following conversation occurred at the dinnei 
table where Mr. "Webster for the first time met Col. 
Preston, then a new senator from South Carolina, 
" Col. Preston," said the great Massachusetts lawyer 
in his stateliest manner, "I am happy to greet you 
as a member of the body to which it is my pride and 
honor to belong, but I regret to see that southern 
gentlemen so often stand aloof from me." Mr. Pres- 
ton answered in polite and deferential terms, when 
the other continued ; " the truth is, I am far more a 
southern than a northern man, and I think that I 
should be treated as 6 hail-fellow' by all my southern 
colleagues." " May I beg to know, said the other, the 
grounds upon which you make this claim." " Cer- 
tainly," replied Mr. "Webster. " In the first place, I 
am very fond of a horse-race, and I believe the turf 
is a southern institution. Secondly, I have in my 
cellar a hundred dozen of the best wine, unpaid for, 
and that I understand to be a trait of southern life 



188 TEN YEAE8 OF PEEACHER-LIFE ] OR, 



Thirdly, before daylight, I shall be under the table, 
and I suppose you are willing to admit this to be 
characteristic of southerners." " Enough," shouted 
the other, laughing, " you have vindicated your claim 
to be my compatriot." 

Some of my readers will recollect the exquisite 
manner in which Mr. "Webster used to relate the fol- 
lowing. One night, before railroads were built, he 
was forced to make a journey by private conveyance 
from Baltimore to Washington. The man who drove 
the wagon was such an ill-looking fellow and told so 
many stories of robberies and murders, that before 
they had gone far, Mr. Webster was somewbat 
alarmed. At last the wagon stopped in the midst of a 
dense wood, when the man, turning suddenly round 
to his passenger, exclaimed fiercely ; " ]STow sir, tell 
me who you are." Mr. Webster replied in a faltering 
voice, and ready to spring from the vehicle, " I am 
Daniel Webster, member of Congress from Massa- 
chusetts." "What!" rejoined the driver, grasping 
him warmly by the hand, " are you Webster ? 
Thank God ! thank God ! You were such, an ugly 
chap that I took you for a highwayman." 

But it is time that I should turn my back upon the 
capital and resume my pilgrim staff. 



CHAPTERS IBOH AK AUTOBIOGBAPHY. 189 



CHAPTER XT. 

A WEDDING TPwIP. 

Congress adjourned 10th of August, 1846. Three 
days afterward I was married in Baltimore, taking 
Philadelphia, New Tort, Boston, Niagara Falls and 
Chicago, by way of the Great Lakes, en route to 
Paris, the seat of the Illinois Conference. The first 
time I visited Chicago was in July, 1841, when it was 
a miserable little village of log-cabins and frame- 
houses, standing by the lake on ground almost low 
enough to be a marsh. The ague and bilious fever 
seemed to stalk the streets as lords paramount, and a 
sorrier set of squatters than formed its population, one 
could not wish to see. And yet during the speculat- 
ing mania, a few years before, town lots in this pros- 
pective centre of an empire, encompassed by hundreds 
of thousands of acres of unfenced, flat, wet prairie, 
were assessed at prices which would have been 
esteemed enormous for eligible sites in London or 
Paris. The revulsion, however, had brought Chicago 
to its lowest ebb, and you might almost have bought 
the town site for a thousand dollars. On my second 



190 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

visit, it seemed to be, as they called it, " a smart chunk 
of a town," with, a few piers thrust into the lake, at 
which lay noble steamers, while numerous sloops 
and schooners were moored along the shore ; a few 
brick honses relieved the monotony of log and white 
frame, and the townspeople thought that when the 
canal connecting the Illinois River with Lake Michi 
gan should be finished, it would be " a right sharp 
place." I was there again in 1855 : it had grown, 
in 14 years, from a village of three thousand inkabi 
tants, to be a city with a population from one hun- 
dred and thirty, to forty thousand ; the terminus of 
countless railroads, one of them then the longest on 
the earth. 1 suppose that its tax, list embraced the 
names of the keenest, most adventurous and reckless 
land-jobbers and speculators in the world, out of 
California and Australia, and that a more pestilential 
atmosphere for the intellect and morals never cano- 
pied a civilized place. Colossal fortunes had been 
acquired in a trice, and every form of vicious extra v 
agance had to be created, as a mill-tail to relieve the 
pond of redundant prosperity. Broad avenues, lined 
with marble and brown-stone fronts, stretched away 
toward the retreating prairie, and splendid equipages 
flashed along the streets, which had just been raised 
four feet out of the mud. Scarce a man had time 
to stop and chat with you, and even the old-fashioned 
western lawyers, the j oiliest crew that ever cracked 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



191 



jokes in a log bar-room, were transformed into quick- 
witted money-changers. All the talk yon heard on 
the street, in offices and stores, was of cent per cent, 
corner lots, shaving paper, land warrants, preemption 
claims, new locations and a chance to make a for- 
tune. And if you happened to sit down by a cozy 
fireside, hoping to have a rational talk with some old 
friend, you were astonished into -silence by his per- 
sistant demonstration that in ten years Chicago 
would be ahead of jSTew York, in wealth, population 
and power, and by the prophecy that in so many 
other years, it would leave London far behind. In 
truth, I never saw so many crazy or intoxicated 
people huddled together in one bedlam or drinking 
shop — which it was, I never could make out. The 
tone of its population formed the most sadly impres- 
sive commentary upon making haste to be rich. 
Everywhere men and women were rioting in ostenta- 
tion or stimulated to frenzied energy, racking their 
brains with schemes of sudden fortune, or if rich, then 
wasting thousands in senseless, tasteless show; ac- 
counting man's life to consist in the abundance which 
he possesseth, and wasting breath to clutch the unsub- 
stantial shadow of a dream. 

After a quiet Sabbath, spent with an old friend, we 
started, bright and early, in a stage coach with eleven 
passengers — (in those days, Chicago had no rail 
roads) — for Peru, the head of navigation on the 



192 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



Illinois River, The distance was a hundred miles, 
and we accomplished it in about twenty-four hours. 
The Illinois was very low, and only the smallest boats 
could navigate it. A sort of mud shallop, dignified by 
the appellation of a stern- wheel steamer, awaited our 
arrival at Peru, and according to the fashion of western 
boatmen, several hours after everything was in readi- 
ness for our departure, the captain rang the bell and 
we started. Our fare at dinner was, of course, the 
never eaten roast beef, roast pig and sole-leather 
pudding ; and for breakfast and tea, a dark colored 
witch's broth, that reminded one of Mr. .Randolph's 
retort upon a waiter, in hearing of the proprietor of 
a Richmond hotel. " Boy," said the beardless lord of 
Roanoake, " change my cup." " Will you have coffee or 
tea, Mr. Randolph ?" " If this is coffee, bring me tea ; 
' and if this is tea, bring me coffee — I want a change." 
An experience of twenty-four hours upon the 
wretched little craft, made us glad to exchange 
sailing for staging, at Peoria. Bidding adieu to our 
travelling companions, my wife and I started, sole 
occupants of a coach, for a long ride across the State 
from west to east. Eleven miles out of town, we 
were informed that we must leave the stage, with its 
four horses, and take a wagon with two, as "they 
only kept the stage for grandeur, to run into 
' Peory. 5 " But we were young and light-hearted, 
and as the weather was fine, thought we could put 



CHAPTEKS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 193 

up with rough accommodations. Placing a trunk in 
the rear of the wagon — which, by the way, had only 
wooden springs — to make a more comfortable seat 
than the rough unplaned board, we jolted off. At 
the house where we stopped to dine, my wife was for 
the first time, introduced to all the mysteries of a 
western kitchen. The chickens were killed, picked 
and cleaned, cooked and served before our eyes, and 
the leaden biscuits and half raw corn bread were 
kneaded and baked under our inspection. Mine was 
a hearty meal, but hers was very slender. I had the 
advantage of her in being accustomed to such fare, 
and withal, as she averred after starting for our after- 
noon's ride, in the fact that I couldn't see what I was 
eating. Eyes, she thought, were very much in the 
way of people who proposed to travel " out West." 
Indeed, one of the precepts of the country is, " Shut 
your eyes and go it blind," and it may have sprung 
from the amount of dirt intermixed with some man's 
dinner. Toward sundown, we were approaching the 
town of Bloomington, where we were to lie over until 
two the next morning, in order to make connection 
with another stage line. I inquired of our driver, what 
sort of accommodations we should find at the hotel 
in town. He assured us that we should get nothing 
fit to eat, and that if we attempted to sleep, the bed- 
bugs would eat us up. Not disposed to run this 
gauntlet, I asked him to drive me to the door of tho 

9 



TEN fEABS OF PBEAGHEK-UFE j OB, 



Methodist that lived in the largest and most comfort* 
able house. As we stopped at the gate, the clatter 
of knives, forks and plates within, and the sound of 
merry voices, announced that the family were at t 
per. " Halloo the house !*' cried I. " Halloo yourself ; 
what do you wantP was the reply. U I am travel- 
ling with my wife, and learning that the quarters at 
the hotel are "bad, have come to get some supper and 
spend a part of the night with you.'* As I said this. 
I was making the word good by getting out of the 
wao;on. The man of the house came striding to- 
ward the ^ate, saving in an angry tone. " Look here, 
stranger, we don't keep a tavern, and if you're a 
traveller, you must put up with traveller's fare and 
go to the hotel.'* " Don't be so savage.'' said I, "have 
you never heard the saying, be not forgetful to en- 
tertain strangers, for some have thereby entertained 
angels unawares.'* i; Oh, ho,*' said he, i; that sounds 
like preaching, you ain't a preacher, are you V J I 
intimated that I was, and mentioned my name. 
Eying me from head to foot, he exclaimed : *• "Well, I 
never ! TTho would have taken such a poor little 
dried up specimen as you for that man; why we've 
thought of trying to get you here as our preacher.'* 

Of course we received a hearty welcome, and 
ere long were seated at a bountiful board. But we 
had not finished supper, when a messenger came in 
hot haste, with the request that I should go to risie a 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 195 



dying man and administer the last offices of religion to 
him. I spent a couple of hours by his bed-side, and 
in attempting to console his heart-broken wife, then 
by ten o'clock, was fast asleep. At two, we were 
roused by the elemental strife, by the horn and 
shouts of our stage driver. "We were soon seated in 
our miserable wagon, with no protection from the 
driving rain but a tow linen cover, through which 
the water dripped in showers. "We had been over- 
taken by a furious equinoctial storm, which began 
about midnight, and our plight was pitiable enough. 
The temperature had fallen about forty degrees ; the 
night was pitchy dark, only relieved by frequent 
flashes of lightning, most vivid and sometimes appall- 
ing, instantly followed by sharp and stunning reports 
of thunder ; but the flashes helped to light our driver 
on his way, or would have done so, had they not 
showed the whole prairie, a pool of water. After a 
time, we reached a little belt of timber, indicating 
our approach to a creek. As we crossed the bridge, 
we heard the now swollen torrent rushing through 
a deep ravine, when the broad glare revealed our 
position. 

"By Jove!" shouted the driver with glee; 
"Weren't that lucky? a half minute more and 
we'd have been all smashed. I never was so near 
goin over a bridge ; half an inch more, and we'd 
been over, and then salt wouldn't have saved us." 



196 TEN TEAES OF PKEACHES-LIFE ; OK, 

To the rather timid question of my wife, as ft 
whether there were any more bad bridges to cross 
before daylight, he replied; "Oh yes, severals; but 
you mustn't be sheered ; we must all die sometime, 
you know." 

At length, day broke and revealed the dismal 
picture of a cold, leaden sky, from which torrents 
still poured upon the low prairie, that appeared a 
lake. It seemed as if chaos had come again, and 
that the waters under the firmament were united to 
the waters above the firmament, and the dry land 
had disappeared. "We floundered on through the 
water, until, several hours behind time, we reached 
the breakfast-house. It was a log cabin of a single 
room, and the only habitation within many miles. 
The front door was nailed up, and entering by the 
back one, we found the entire family stretched out 
upon beds and shake downs. " "What's the matter?" 
I said. " Oh," answered a saffron colored, shrivelled 
old woman, at the same time crawling out of her 
bed, " we've all got the ager, bilious and conges- 
tive." " Have any died ?" I said. " Yes, two or 
three," she answered, " and I reckon the rest cf us'il 
be dead soon, for there ain't one well enough to wait 
upon another." "I suppose there's no chance for 
breakfast then." " If you're willing to take what 
you can ketch, we wouldn't like to see you starvin." 
She gave us the best her larder afforded, and offering a 



CHAPTERS FROM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 197 

prayer with, the miserable people, we pursued our 
weary way, and late in the afternoon, reached a place, 
called Mount Pleasant, evidently to show how great 
is the difference between names and things. It was a 
wretched hamlet, consisting of a tavern, a groggery 
and a blacksmith shop, squatted upon the edge of a 
low prairie. Here we had to lie over again foi 
another stage connection, and I advised my wife to 
improve the interval by seeking needed repose. She 
stretched herself upon the bed and I took the floor ; 
but scarcely were we composed, before a great rat, 
who had probably been enjoying a siesta, started 
from the neighborhood of her pillow and springing 
over her head, landed near me. Of course, sleep 
refused to visit Jier eyelids in that house. Toward 
nightfall a carriage stopped at the door, and we 
found ourselves joined by a New England gentleman, 
his wife, and several children, who, we were not 
long in discovering, were on their way to the neigh- 
borhood of Peoria, as missionaries. I confess to the 
wickedness of rather enjoying their lugubrious estate. 

In common with my brother Methodist preachers 
on the frontier, I had become prejudiced against a 
very worthy class of orthodox New Englavd evange- 
lists, who are accustomed to enter the new countries, 
and before doing any real service, or facing many 
of the hardships and privations of border life, 
hasten back to their native land, to tell long and 



19S TEN YEAE3 OF PEEACHEE-LIFE \ OK, 



gloomy stories concerning the destitution and heath* 
enism of the great "West, and to raise collections for 
sending the Gospel to those pagan parts. They 
seemed to think that because they had failed to stay 
and do their duty, there were no ministers or church 
in prairie land ; while we had been there from 
the earliest settlements ; had preached to the Indi- 
ans and the first squatters* had borne the heat and 
burden of the day, and thought, according to the 
course of nature, that these sprigs of theological 
seminaries had no right to represent us, though 
inferior to them in the matter of Hebrew and Greek 
roots, as little better than the wicked. yielding 
to the impulse, I was no: sorry to find the new 
comer very much depressed, nor was I very much 
disposed to help him toward a more cheerful frame 
of mind, but thought, as he had left his native 
land to be a missionary, his heroic purpose should 
have the benefit of a thorough test. He related the 
doleful way he had come, how the roads were almost 
impassable, and the people, in every house, sick and 
dying ; how he had heard that a man, seized by a 
congestive chill, would sometimes die in an hour, 
and that the victims never survived a third attack. 
T told him that, so far as I knew, this was true, and 
in reply to his eager questions as to the condition 
of the country through which I had come, could 
only assure him that it was quite as bad as that 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 199 

through which he had travelled, and if possible, 
worse. "While he and his wife were holding an 
anxious consultation, as to whether they should not, 
with the morrow's dawn, turn their backs upon this 
region of horrors, 017 r stage drove up and we em- 
barked, for judging from the rain-covered earth, 
you might almost as well say that it was sailing, as 
riding. Our conveyance to-night, was an improve- 
ment upon the last, but it was not much to boast of ; 
only an old, broken-down coach, with both the win- 
dows out, and a mass of wet mail bags piled upon 
the front seat. Nevertheless, we made ourselves 
comfortable as might be, my wife taking possession 
of the back seat, while I, doubled up in as small 
compass as possible, lay upon some hay on the floor. 
Plunging through mud and mire, sometimes stall- 
ing in a particularly bad place, and at the best get- 
ting forward "only at a snail's pace, I was suddenly 
roused from a fitful nap, by the sound of a man's 
voice, in angry conversation with the driver. Our 
lamps disclosed a man in his shirt-sleeves, riding a 
horse and leading another. His mouth was filled 
with blasphemous oaths, and he was the very imper- 
sonation of unbridled rage. He proved to be the 
driver of a coach coming from the opposite direction. 
His team had mired some distance back, and he had no 
alternative but to unharness and go a dozen miles for 
help, leaving his stage and the mails in the slough. Am 



200 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

hour afterward we reached the foundered coach, and 
by way of giving myself something to do, I shouted at 
the top of my voice, " Halloo ! the stage!" "When, to 
my surprise, for I had not dreamed that a human 
being save ourselves was near, there came forth the 
reply in a cheery tone — " halloo, yourself, and tell me 
how you like it." " "Who are you ?" I asked, a and what 
are you doing there ?" " Only a passenger, and tak- 
ing it comfortably," he answered. His composure 
was as imperturbable as the driver's wrath had been 
boisterous. Toward daylight, we suddenly drew up 
again, and the driver shouted, " Out ! out ! "for your 
lives ! I am on a bad bridge, and I reckon we'll go 
through !" I opened the door, sprang out in the 
darkness, and found myself performing a series of 
somersaults down an inclined plane of mud, and 
landed in a swamp. " Tou don't expect my wife to 
get out here, I hope," I said, as soon as I could get 
breath. " Do you want her neck broke?" he asked. 
"ISTot exactly, for I am just married; you lubberly 
fellow, why don't you get down and carry her to the 
bridge ? It will hold her, if it won't the team ;" 
" Hold the horses, then," said he ; and I managed to 
crawl to their heads, keeping them steady, while he 
deposited my wife on the shaking timbers, drenched 
by the falling rain, while the swollen torrent rushed 
and roared through the black chasm beneath our 
feet. There we stood for an hour, while he backed 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 201 

his team down, and drove off to find a ford across 
the swollen current. At length he returned, and we, 
chilled to the bone, wet to the skin, capital subjects 
for congestive fever, nia^.e our way back to our 
places, thankful to be alive, with whole bones. An- 
other dreary day came at last, and an early dinner- 
time found us established before a blazing fire in the 
hotel of Danville* Having partaken of the bacon 
and greens, my wife thought she would try to take 
a nap, while I went out to look for a conveyance 
to Paris, distant about forty miles, for the stage 
route terminated here. It was not long however, 
before my search for carriage and horses was arrested 
by a hurried message, requesting that I should visit 
a brother preacher, who lay dying with congestive 
fever. He was a noble fellow, thoroughly enlisted in 
his work, had joined the conference, at the same 
time I did, and was now ceasing at once to work and 
to live. He was collected and peaceful, for the sting 
of death was gone. As I bade him farewell, he said, 
" you will see the brethren to-morrow, but I shall 
never see them again until we meet before the throne. 
Tell the conference that I died at my post." A little 
while after, he entered his rest. 

It took me two full hours to arrange for our start, 
procuring a horse from one man, a second from ano- 
ther, a set of harness from a third, another set from 
a fourth, a carry-all from a fifth, and after much difii 

9* 



202 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

culty I succeeded in persuading a blacksmith, to act 
as driver. All things being in readiness, I drove up to 
the hotel for my wife, supposing that I should find 
her refreshed by a good nap, but she had hardly lain 
down when two-thirds of the ceiling of the room fell 
with a crash, barely missing her head. 

After that, sleep was of course out of the question. 
The night came down upon us still twenty miles 
from Paris, and in front of a rather good-looking 
house, which our driver assured us was the only 
one fit to stop at on the whole road. I requested 
him, therefore, to inquire if they could accom- 
modate us with supper and bed. They answered, 
" N"o, they could not take strange travellers." The 
driver said that it was impossible to go on to Paris, 
that he did not know the road, and we should 
be sure to get lost, for the night was going to be 
pitchy dark. I was not disposed to endure hunger 
and cold and darkness for twelve mortal hours, to 
gratify the inhospitable churls ; so, alighting, I bade 
the driver take off the luggage, and started for the 
house, but was met, before reaching the door, by its 
master. 

u Didn't I send you word you couldn't stay here." 
He began. " Of course you did," I answered, " but 
I am going to stay all the same. Are you savage 
enough to make a woman spend the night on the 
prairie, and you sleeping with a house over your 



CHAPTERS FROM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



203 



head ? the Indians ain't as mean as that.*' " "Well, 1 
reckon you'll have to stop ; you're a right determined 
little cre^ter. Once in the house, they made us com- 
fortable. When bedtime arrived, I said, " I am a 
Methodist preacher." " You !" interrupted our host, 
" vrho'd ha' thought such a lookin' little thing as you 
vras a preacher !" " Yes I am a Methodist preacher," 
I continued, w and it is my custom to have prayers 
with the families in which I stay, if there be no 
objection." "I'm agreeable, fire away," said the 
landlord. Our devotions over, we prepared to retire. 
There were two sleeping apartments ; one belonging 
to the family, consisting of a dozen grown people 
besides sundry children ; the other, through which, by 
the way, the entire brigade had to pass on their way 
to and from bed, was assigned to us. There happened 
to be a young woman visiting the family, and she was 
shown to a second bed in our room. She and my 
wife had gone in to undress, when the latter, feeling 
sympathy for a girl in such delicate circumstances, 
said in a commiserating tone, "I am sorry you are 
obliged to sleep in this way." " Yes, replied the 
other, feeling the bed-clothes, "it is kinder uncomfor- 
table when a body's been used to sleeping between 
blankets, to have to lay on a sheet," Bright and 
early next morning we were roused by the heavy- 
shod platoon marching by us on their way to their 
day's work. Prayers and breakfast over, we wero 



20i TEN YEABS OF PBEACHEB-LIFE j OB, 

ready for the road, when I said to mine liost, " what's 
your bill ?" " The damage, you mean ? Will yon pay 
me what I ask P « Certainly, if I can/ 5 « Well, if 
you ever come within ten miles of us again, give us 
a call and stay all night; I'll be consarned if I don't 
like seech a chap as you are. 55 

High noon found us in Paris. This was Satur- 
day ; we had left Chicago on Monday. You can 
now leave it by rail, after a comfortable breakfast, and 
take a late dinner the same afternoon in Paris. Con- 
ference had been in session since "Wednesday, and 
you can well fancy that the meeting with old friends 
after a year 5 s separation was a joyous one. 

The bishop presiding was the victim of a heart-dis- 
ease. Over his head the sword of Damocles hung 
ever suspended by a hair, the death's head was never 
absent from his banquet, and the dread of sudden 
death had discolored all his ideas of life. He was 
the morbid and sworn foe to everything like gaiety, 
and while not sour or sullen, yet his piety was weighty 
and lugubrious. It may well be imagined that such 
a chairman had trouble to keep in order a man like 
Peter Cartwright, with whom humor and drollery 
are as natural as to breathe. Brother Cartwright 
had the floor one day, and by his irresistible fun, 
set the Conference in a roar. "Stop, Brother Cart- 
wright, 55 said the bishop ; " I cannot allow such 
sin to be committed among Methodist preachers 



CHAPTERS AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



205 



when I have the charge of them. I read in the 
Bible, be angry and sin not, but I nowhere see, 
laugh and sin not. Let us bow down and con- 
fess our offence. Brother Cartwright, lead in 
prayer. " The backwoods preacher kneeled and 
repeated the Lord's prayer, and then rising, said, 
" Look here, Mr. Bishop, when I dig potatoes, I dig 
potatoes ; when I hoe corn, I hoe corn ; when I pray, 
I pray; and when I attend to business, I want to 
attend to business — I wish you did too, and I don't 
want you to take such snap judgment on me again." 

"Brother," said the bishop, in a monitory tone, 
" do ypu think you are growing in grace ?" " Yes, 
bishop, I think I am — in spots." It is hardly neces- 
sary to add that the bishop gave him up as incorrigible. 

One of my cronies, Billy Eutledge, as we called 
him, as genial, warm-hearted and lovable a Methodist 
preacher as ever carried a pair of saddle-bags, had 
brought a carriage to Paris to take us to my father's 
home, a three days' drive. The first evening, we 
reached the edge of the grand prairie, where stood 
a single cabin, consisting of two rooms. About 
twenty-five preachers were in our company, and this 
was the only house at which we could put up. The 
people received us gladly, notwithstanding the dis- 
parity between our numbers and their accommoda- 
tions, and said they would do their best for us. 
The horses were cared for, and active preparations 



206 TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE ; OE, 

made for supper. One party filed in to the suppei 
table as another left it, in due time we all ate 
and were filled; then, gathering around the huge 
fireplace in the other room, our venerable friend 
Dr. Akers, occupying the seat of Gamaliel, ex- 
pounded such knotty points in divinity as were 
proposed by the juniors. It was a picturesque scene, 
as the ruddy glare of the pine-knots, shining from 
the chimney corner, lit up the eager, generous 
faces of a score of devoted itinerants, to whom hard- 
ship and privations were as nothing, and unrewarded 
toil a pleasure. It would have done your heart good, 
in the pauses of graver discourse, to listen to their 
good stories, followed by the peals of hearty laugh- 
ter; then as bed-time drew near, and the lesson 
had been read, to hear their full voices join in the 
evening hymn, followed by fervent responses to 
the prayer which commended them and all they 
loved to the care of Him who never slumbers. There 
was one bedstead in the room, for my wife and myself, 
she being the only woman of the party ; while shuck- 
mattresses and buffalo skins were laid upon the floor 
for the men, some of the juniors repairing to the 
hay-mow, no unusual chamber for a circuit rider. 
These arrangements completed, the room was va- 
cated to afford my wife an opportunity of undressing. 
The pine-knots were then extinguished, and every 
man found his couch as best he might in the dark 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 207 



Our next halting-place was to be on the other side 
of the grand prairie. We were up at three o'clock, 
and not a bit too soon, for my wife was hardly out of 
bed, before a heavy shower poured through the roof, 
upon the very spot where we had lain. 

Our hospitable entertainers furnished an ample 
breakfast and abundant provision for our lunch, but 
refused to receive a picayune, saying they would 
expect their house to be struck by lightning if they 
took pay for feeding Methodist preachers and their 
horses. A hard day's drive, without seeing a habita- 
tion, or the least sign, except the road, to tell that 
man had ever been on this boundless prairie, brought 
us, by nightfall, to a stopping-place much like the 
last. ]SText morning, about ten o'clock, we drew 
up for breakfast before a house which I had been 
accustomed to visit when travelling the district with 
the presiding elder. The old people were from home, 
but a rosy cheeked, bouncing damsel, calling her 
brothers to her aid, soon prepared a bountiful repast. 
That breakfast lives in our grateful recollection until 
this day, for the house in which it was prepared, the 
vessels in which it was cooked, the table on which it 
was served, and the bright-eyed, cherry-lipped damsel, 
were all clean, and cleanliness at that day was some* 
thing for a traveller in the West to take note of and 
be thankful for. 

That night, after a year's absence, I sat by my 



208 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

father's fireside; it was the first time I had ever been 
long away from home. Greetings exchanged with 
father, mother and brother, I hurried to the stable to 
see my dear old Charlie. He knew my voice, rubbed 
his nose against my cheek and breast, laid his head 
affectionately over my shoulder, and I — can you won- 
der at it? — threw my arms around his neck while 
the tears were in my eyes. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 209 



CHAPTER XVI. 

LIFE ON WHEELS, 

After a month's sojourn at my father's, we set 
forth upon our travels, for I had been reappointed 
agent by the Conference. My wife established her- 
self in Baltimore, her old home, which, of course, 
became the centre of my operations for the year. 
She rented a small honse, and procuring some furni- 
ture, transformed our narrow premises into the 
dearest of all places upon earth — a home. We sat 
beneath our own vine and fig-tree, but whence the 
means to water the one and prune the other were 
coming, was only known to Providence. My only 
income was the agency, which meant simply ten per 
cent, of all the funds I collected for my western col- 
leges. I declined an invitation from many of my late 
parishioners, to become their chaplain again, in order 
that I might the more fully test my capacity as a 
beggar. Much time was spent from home, visiting 
the principal seaboard cities : trying by every 



210 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

legitimate method, in public and in private, to bring 
the object of my mission before the money-making 
and money-giving public. One incident may serve 
as a specimen of the trials an agent has to encoun- 
ter, Entering the store of a great merchant in 
Philadelphia, who belonged to the Society of Friends, 
and who was said to do a large western trade, which 
it was considered gave me some claim upon him, 1 
began the statement of my case. He interrupted me by 
saying, " Does thee call thyself a Methodist minister ?" 
I replied that I was known as such. " Then thee is an 
hireling." I intimated that they that preach the Gos- 
pel should live by the Gospel. He answered, " I wish 
to have nothing to do with thee, I would not give thee 
a cent ; thee is an hireling ; thy children can get no 
milk of the word, and thy old men no strong meat 
from thee — there is my door, get thee out of it at once. 
I cannot abide hirelings." Conference year, which 
terminated my labors as agent, closed in Septembei 
1847. 

I had now been "in the work" four ^ears, and 
during that period had preached 1,500 times, and ^ 
travelled 60,000 miles. The preaching had been 
done in the open air, and in houses of every imagin- 
able description : from barns, log cabins, and school- 
houses, up to the noblest and most spacious edifices 
in the land ; and addressed to congregations ranging 
from two or three persons up to uncounted thousands. 



CEAPTEES FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 211 

The travelling had been accomplished by almost 
every mode of conveyance known to us, except the 
balloon and wheel-barrow. Meanwhile my health, 
which had never been robust since its failure in 
college, had suffered, and my physician prescribed 
a winter in the South. It became necessary to con- 
clude our six-months' experiment at housekeeping, 
and my wife was placed in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, that 
she might enjoy the society and care of some old 
friends, and study German, so as to assist me in the 
oursuit of that language and literature. In those 
days we were obliged to cross the Alleghanies by 
stages from Chambersburg to Pittsburg. As we 
were arranging in the former place to take our seats 
for the forty hours' ride, it appeared that eight passen- 
gers had been allotted to our stage. An old colored 
woman was anxious to be the ninth, but objection 
had been raised. She declared, with tears in her 
eyes, that she had been waiting for several days to 
get a seat, that although she had her ticket, they 
had been unable to carry her, the stages having 
been crowded with through passengers; that now 
her money was spent, and she must get home 
to her daughter. A stout Missourian, who was 
to be of our company, swore roundly that he 
" wouldn't ride with a nigger, and that she shouldn't 
go." Touched by the old woman's condition, I said 
to him quietly, " My friend, what right have you to 



212 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

interfere. Her ticket is as good as yours, and she 
lias as much right to a seat as you have." " No," 
he said 5 " she is a nigger, and I am white, and I'll 
whip any man that says she has as good a right to a 
seat as I have, or insists upon taking her along." 
" Then," said I, " you can whip me, for I say she 
shall go." The idea of a giant whipping a pigmy, 
was too preposterous. It raised a laugh against him, 
and he submitted, because ridicule was more potent 
than reason. " Well," he said, " I suppose, if it must 
be so, it must; but, as we are to be shut up in the 
stage with her, in the name of noses let us strengthen 
our stomachs with some bald-faced whisky. I de- 
clined his amicable and aesthetic proposal. I tried 
to take good care of my protegee, giving her 
money to provide food at our various halts, and in 
every way sought to promote her comfort. As we 
went rattling down the streets of Pittsburg, late in 
the second night, I threw open the curtain On my 
side of the coach, and sat looking out into the night, 
through which the street lamps struggled with their 
feeble rays, my thoughts divided between the inde- 
finable curiosity and awe one always experiences in 
entering a strange city, late at night, and the pros- 
pect of a good bed and a quiet hotel, when I was 
suddenly roused from my reverie by a violent blow 
on my side, delivered by my old dame, as she 
screamed in anger, " Lean up ! lean up ! what you 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 213 

takin' all de winder for ? Don't yon suppose pussons 
ob cnller tab dere rites as well as yon good-for- 
nothing whites % I wants to see de scenery too." I 
believe it was the verdict of my fellow-passengers, 
that I received what I deserved. 

Pittsburgh, whose ever-driving canopy of smoke 
reminds one of Birmingham or Manchester, stands 
almost at the foot of the Alleghany Mountains, at 
the entrance of a broad plain, unmatched among 
the valleys of the earth, embracing its millions of 
square miles, almost every rood of which is fertile 
as the Delta of the Nile. This city used to be the 
gate of the "West, and over it was inscribed as a 
grateful tribute, the imperishable name of that noble 
Commoner of England, by whose policy the vast 
region of the Ohio was wrested from the French 
during the old seven years' war. 

The blaze of countless forges and the din of the 
hammer chorus, which almost blinds and deafens one 
in Pittsburgh, form a fit introduction to the battles 
and conquests by which coal and iron, in the cun- 
ning hand of instructed labor, have been vanquish- 
ing idleness and sterility — triumphs by which the 
desert is made to blossom as the rose, and the wilder- 
ness and solitary places are gladdened. 

One can hardly stand in such a place, and think 
of the changes which a century has wrought, since 
the rising star of Anglo-American civilization was 



214 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LUTE \ OB, 



clouded by BraddocFs inglorious defeat, without re- 
calling the language of the Prophet : 

" It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and sing- 
ing : the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of 
Carmel and Sharon. And the p'arched ground shall become a pool, 
and the thirsty land springs of water : in the habitation of dragons, 
where each lay, shall be grass with reeds and rushes. 

a And an highway shall be there, and a way and it shall be called 
the way of holiness ; the unclean shall not pass over it ; but it shall 
be for those ; the wayfaring men, though fools, shall not err there- 
in. 

"No lion shall be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up 
thereon, it shall not be found there ; but the redeemed shall walk 
there. 

" And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion 
with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads : they shall obtain 
joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." 

In moving upon the bosom of our western waters, 
m the canoe, the broad-horn, or the steamer, where 
human genius, organed with machinery, invades the 
solitude of nature, there is a spell whose charm stirs 
me to ecstasy. You float on the placid bosom 
of the Ohio, La Belle Rivi&re of the early voyageurs, 
whose sources are in the ice-fed springs close by the 
eagle's eyrie, on the tops of the Alleghanies ; or on 
the equally tranquil Illinois, skirted by its boundless 
undulating flower-clad prairies; or are driven 
among the eddies by the wild impetuous current 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 215 

between the sliding banks of the Missouri. Ton 
are borne by the majestic flood of the Mississippi 
from the wild rice lakes of the frozen ]STorth to where 
its tawny waves are lost in the blue bosom of the 
summer gulf, emerging from regions where moss 
and lichens only grow, and the frost king holds al- 
most perpetual court, to gardens of orange and pome- 
granate, where the Magnolia sheds her perfume, 
while the deep silences are broken only by the pad- 
dle's dip, the crack of the rifle, the scream of the 
steam whistle, and the buffet of the engine's fleshless 
arms, beating the stream to foam. Primeval woods 
overshadow the skirts of savannas undulating out of 
sight. "Wood-crowned bluffs stand forth where the 
savage lay in wait for the emigrants' flat boat, and 
their verdure crimsons in the memory of many a 
fight between the white and the red man. Then pic- 
tures of this land, when time and labor shall have 
wrought those changes which imagination summons, 
combine to weave a spell of weird enchantment, 
heightened rather than diminished by your conscious- 
ness of danger from sawyers, snags, fire, collisions 
and explosions. 

Since the opening of commerce by the settlement 
of the country, the navigation of these water-courses 
has developed a type of character peculiar and re- 
markable as the rivers themselves. When the long 



216 TEX YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

and deadly wrestle between the aborigines and the 
invading whites terminated by the triumph of the 
latter, many a scout and Indian fighter found him- 
self without occupation. Like the Indian and nis 
buffalo, a life of wild freedom and adventure was 
necessary to them ; they could not, like the farmer and 
his patient ox, bend their necks to the yoke of syste- 
matic, drudging toil. Some repairing to the Rocky 
Mountains, became hunters for the fur companies; 
others found outlet for their energies in a new voca- 
tion which the rising trade of new countries devel- 
oped. The fabrics of civilization could be introduced 
into the great West only by trains of loaded mules 
across the Alleghanies or by keel-boats ascending 
the river from New Orleans. Now, the labor of 
urging a freighted barge against a rapid current fif- 
teen hundred or two thousand miles, exposed to all 
vicissitudes of weather, subject to every species of 
privation and hardship, required, it well may be 
supposed, a brood of giants. In describing them, I 
will draw from the graphic pen of my friend Col. 
T. B. Thorpe, to whom the public is indebted for 
many of the most truthful and lifelike pictures of 
western habits, character, and humor ever published : 
"The keel-boat was long and narrow, sharp at 
the bow and stern, and of light draft. From fif- 
teen to twenty 6 hands' were required to propel it. 
The crew, divided equally on each side, took the.r 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 217 

places upon the "walking-boards extending along 
the whole length of the craft, and, setting one 
end of their pole in the bottom of the river, the 
other was brought to the shoulder, and with the 
body bent forward, they walked the boat against the 
formidable current. 

"It is not strange that the keel-boatmen, always 
exercising in the open air, "without an idea of the 
dependence of the laborer in their minds, armed con- 
stantly with the deadly rifle, and feeling assured that 
their strong arms and sure aim would anywhere 
gain them a livelihood, should have become physi- 
cally the most powerful of men, and that their minds, 
often naturally of the highest order, should have 
elaborated ideas singularly characteristic of the 
extraordinary scenes and associations with which 
they were surrounded. Their professional pride lay 
in ascending ' rapids this effort of human strength 
to overcome natural obstacles was considered by 
them worthy of their prowess. The slightest error 
exposed the craft to be thrown across the current, or 
to be brought, sidewise in contact with rocks or other 
obstructions, which would inevitably destroy it. The 
hero vaunted that his boat never swung in the swift 
current, and never backed from a i shute ! 5 

"Their chief amusements were 'rough frolics,' 

dancing, fiddling and fist fights. The incredible 

strength of their pectoral muscles, growing out of 
10 



218 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

their peculiar labor and manner of life, made fights 
with them a direful necessity — it was an appetite, and, 
like pressing hunger, had to be appeased. The keel- 
boatman who boasted that he had never been 
whipped, stood upon a dangerous eminence, for every 
aspirant for fame was bound to dispute his claim to 
such distinction. Occasionally, at some temporary 
landing-place, a number accidentally came together 
for a night. From the extreme labors of the day, 
possibly quietness reigned in the camp ; when, unex- 
pectedly, the repose w^ould be disturbed by some 
restless fellow crowing forth a defiance in the manner 
of a game-cock ; then, springing into some conspicu- 
ous place, and rolling up his sleeves, he would utter 
his challenge as follows : 

" 6 I'm from the Lightning Forks of Roaring River. 
I'm all man, save what is wild cat and extra light- 
ning. I'm as hard to run against as a cypress snag. 
I never back water. Look at me — a small specimen, 
harmless as an angle worm — a remote circumstance, 
a mere yearling. Cock-a-doodle-doo. I did hold down 
a buffalo bull and tar off his scalp with my teeth ; 
but I can't do it now — I'm too powerful weak, 1 
am? 

" By this time those within hearing would spring to 
their feet, and like the war-horse that smells the battle 
afar off, inflate their nostrils with expectation. The 
challenger goes on : 



CHAPTERS FKOM A2$ AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 219 

"I'm the man that, single handed, towed the broad 
horn over a sand-bar ? the identical infant who girdled 
a hickory by smiling at the bark, and if any one 
denies it, let him make his will, and pay the expenses 
of a funeral. I'm the genuine article, tough as bull's 
hide, keen as a rifle. I can out-swim, out-swar, out- 
jump, out-drink, and keep soberer than any man at 
Catfish Bend. I'm painfully ferochus, I'm spiling 
for some one to whip me — if there's a creeter in this 
diggin' that wants to be disappointed in trying to do 
it, let him yell — whoop hurra !' 

" Rifle shooting they brought to perfection — their 
deadly aim told terribly at the battle of J^ew Orleans. 
As hunters, the weapon had been their companion, 
and they never parted with it in their new vocation. 
"While working at the oar or pole, it was always 
within reach, and if a deer unexpectedly appeared 
on the banks, or a migratory bear breasted the waves, 
it was stricken down with unerring aim. 

" By an imperative law among themselves, they 
were idlers on shore, where their chief amusement 
was shooting at a mark, or playing severe practical 
jokes upon each other. They would with the rifle 
ball, and at long distances, cut the pipe out cf the 
hat-band of a fellow boatman, or unexpectedly upset 
a cup of whisky that might, at ' lunch-time' be for 
the moment resting on some one's knee. A negro, 
exciting the ire of one of these men, he at the dis 



220 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

tance of a hundred yards, with, a rifle-ball, cut the 
offender's heel, and did this without a thought that 
the object of his indignation could be more seriously 
damaged by an unsteady aim. 

"Taking off a wild turkey's head with a rifle-ball 
at a hundred yards 5 distance while the bird was in 
full flight, was not looked upon as an extraordinary 
feat. At nightfall they would snuff candles at fifty 
paces, and do it without extinguishing the light. 
Many of these extraordinary men became so expert 
and cool, that in the heat of battle they would 
announce the pl^e on their enemy they intended to 
hit, and subsequent examination would prove the 
certainty of their aim. Driving the nail, however, 
was their favorite amusement. This consisted in 
sinking a nail, two-thirds of its length, in the centre 
of a target, and then at forty paces, with a rifle ball, 
driving it home to the head. If they quarrelled 
among themselves, and then made friends, the test 
that they bore no malice, was to shoot a small object 
from each other's heads. Mike Fink, the best shot 
of all keelboatmen, lost his life in one of these 
strange trials of friendship. He had had a difficulty 
with one of his companions, made friends and agreed 
to the usual ceremony to show that he bore no ill- 
will. The man put an apple upon his head, placed 
himself at the proper distance — Mike fired, and hit> 
apparently not the inanimate object, but the man, who 



CHAPTERS FKCBI AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



221 



fell to the ground apparently dead. Standing by was a 
brother of this victim either of treachery or hazard, 
and in an instant of anger, he shot Mike through the 
heart. In a few moments the supposed dead man, 
without a wound, recovered his feet. Mike had evi- 
dently, from mere wantonness, displaced the apple, 
by shooting between it and the skull, in the same 
way, that he would have barked a squirrel from the 
limb of a tree. The joke, unfortunately, cost the re- 
nowned Mike his life." False indeed, would be the 
supposition that these men, lawless as they were, pos- 
sessed a single trait of character in common with the 
law-defying wretches of our crowded cities. They 
committed, it is true, great excesses in villages where 
their voyages terminated, and when large numbers 
of them were assembled together. If they defied 
the law it was not because it was irksome, but 
because they never felt its restraints. They had their 
own laws which they implicitly obeyed. "With them 
fair play was a jewel. If the crew of a rival boat 
was to be attacked, only an equal number was 
detached for the service ; if the intruders were wor- 
sted, no one interfered for their relief. "Whatever 
was placed in their care for transportation was 
Bacred, and would be defended from harm, if neces- 
sary, at the sacrifice of their life. They would, from 
mere recklessness, pilfer the out-buildings of a farm- 
house, yet they could be intrusted with uncounted 



222 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



sums of money, and if anything in tlieir possession, 
became damaged or lost, they made restitution to the 
last farthing. In difficulties between others, they 
invariably espoused the cause of the weaker party 
and took up the quarrels of the aged, whether in the 
right or wrong. 

" As an illustration of their rude code of honor, is 
remembered the story of 'Bill M'Coy. 5 He was a 
master-spirit, and had successfully disputed for cham- 
pionship upon almost every famous sand-bar visible 
at low water. In a terrible row, where blood had 
been spilled, and a dark crime committed, Bill was 
involved. Momentarily off his guard, he fell into 
the clutches of the law. The community was ex- 
cited — a victim was demanded to appease the oft- 
insulted majesty of justice. Brought before one of 
the courts 'holding' at Natchez, then just closing its 
session for the summer vacation, he was fully com- 
mitted, and nothing but the procurement of enor- 
mous bail would keep him from sweltering through 
the long months of summer in durance vile. It was 
apparently useless for him to expect any one to go 
bail for him; he appealed, however, to those pre- 
sent, dwelt upon the horrors, to him more especially, 
of a long imprisonment, and solemnly asseverated 
that he would present himself at the time appointed 
for trial. 

" At the last, Col. "W. , a wealthy, and on the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 223 



whole rather a cautious citizen, came to the rescue and 
agreed to pay ten thousand dollars if Z\I ; Coy did not 
present himself to stand his trial. It was in vain that 
the colonel's friends tried to persuade him not to take 
the responsibility; even the court's suggestion to let 
the matter alone was unheeded. H/Coy was re- 
leased — shouldering his rifle, and threading his way 
through the Indian nation, in due time he reached 
his home in c Old Kaintuck.' 

" Months rolled on, and the time of trial approach- 
ed. As a matter of course, the probabilities of McCoy's 
return were discussed. The public had doubts. The 
colonel had not heard from him since his departure. 
The morning of the appointed day arrived, but the 
prisoner did not present himself. The attending 
crowd and the people of the town became excited — 
all except the colonel despaired — evening was coming 
on apace — the court was on the point of adjourning, 
when a distant huzza was heard ; it was borne on the 
wings of the wind, and echoed along, each moment 
growing louder and louder. Finally, the exulting 
cry was caught up by the hangers-on about the seat 
of justice. Another moment, and 3TCoy — his beard 
long and matted, his hands torn to pieces, his eyes 
haggard and face sun-burnt to a degree that was 
painful to behold — rushed into the court-room, and 
from sheer exhaustion fell prostrate upon the floor. 

" Old Col. W. embraced him as he would have done 



22i TEN YEAES OF PREACHEE-LIFE j OE, 



a long-lost brother, and eyes unused to tears filled to 
overflowing when M'Ooy related his simple tale. 
Startino; from Louisville as a ' hand on a boat ' he 
found in a few days that, owing to the low stage of 
water in the river and the other unexpected delays, 
it was impossible for him to reach Natchez at the 
appointed time by such a mode of conveyance. Nd 
other ordinary conveyance, in those early days, pre- 
sented itself. Not to be thwarted, he abandoned the 
flat, and, with his own hands, shaped a canoe out of 
the trunk of a fallen tree. He had rowed and pad- 
dled, almost without cessation, thirteen hundred 
miles, and had thus redeemed his promise almost at 
the expense of life. His trial in its progress became 
a mere form ; his chivalrous conduct and the want 
of any positive testimony won for him a verdict of 
not guilty, even before it was announced by the jury 
or affirmed by the judge. 

"A few years ago, the Mississippi, from an unusual 
drought, shrunk within its banks to a comparatively 
small stream, and, as a consequence, under the pro- 
tection of a high bank, nearly opposite the town of 
Baton Eouge, there was exposed the wreck of a 
small boat, the timbers of which, as far as could be 
ascertained, were in a good state of preservation. 
Few particularly noticed the object, because such 
evidences of destruction form one of the most fami- 
liar features of the passing scenery ; yet, there was 



CHAPTERS PROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 225 



really an interest connected with those blackened but 
still enduring ribs, for they were the remains of the 
first steamer that ever dashed its wheels into the 
waters of the Great "West, and awakened new echoes 
along the then silent shores of the 'Father of 
Waters.' This boat was built at Pittsburg by Messrs. 
Fulton and Livingston. It was launched in the 
month of March, 1812, and landed at Natchez the 
following year, where she loaded with passengers, 
and proceeded to New Orleans. After running some 
time in this newly-established trade and meeting 
with a variety of misfortunes, she finally snagged 
and sunk into the half-exposed grave we have desig- 
nated." 

"When steam had been successfully applied to the 
vast inland navigation of the West, it was feared that * 
the keel-boatman's occupation was gone, but no 
sooner had fire and water taken the laboring oar, 
than these men appeared as the natural officers of 
the new marine. It is not then surprising that 
moving accidents by flood were of such common oc- 
currence, or that the recklessness of these captains 
and pilots have hurled thousands of passengers into 
eternity without a moment's warning. 

In the good old times, the trip from New Orleans 

to Pittsburg needed a hundred and twenty-five days, 

How it is accomplished in ten or twelve. 

Voyaging upon these waters, and all the circum- 
10* 



226 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 

stances of Western life, impart to the people a tone 
of exaggeration either repulsive or ludicrous to the 
more quiet and methodical residents of the east- 
ern States. The following " splurge " may be taken 
as a specimen of an educated western man's "norat- 
ing " in the social hall of a western steamboat. 
" Gentlemen, what is poetry, but the truth exagge- 
rated ? Here, it can never arrive at any perfection. 
"What chance is there for exaggeration in the Great 
West, where the reality is incomprehensible? A 
territory as large as classic Greece annually caves 
into the Mississippi, and who notices it ? Things, to 
be poetical, must be got up on a small scale. The 
Tiber, the Seine, the Thames, appear well in poetry, 
but such streams are overlooked in the West, they 
don't afford water enough to keep up an expansive 
duck-pond — would be mere drains to a squatter's 
preemption. I have heard of frontiersmen who were 
poets, because their minds expanded beyond the 
surrounding physical grandeur. Books are not yet 
large enough to contain their ideas — steam is not 
strong enough to impress them on the historic page. 
These men have no definite sense of limitation, know 
of no locality — they sleep not on a couch, but upon 
the 'government lands' — they live upon the spon- 
taneous productions of the earth, and make a drink- 
ing-cup of the mighty Mississippi. Settlements within 
fifty miles of them vitiate th§ air : life for them means 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



227 



spontaneity and untramelled liberty of personal move- 
ment in space and time. Their harmony with, the 
Nature that engendered them, annihilates the most 
formidable local barriers. The first pennon of blue 
smoke that daily arises from the chimney of a new 
settlement admonishes them to penetrate more deeply 
into the forest. They have an instinctive dread of 
crowds — with them, civilization means law and 
calomel." _ 

Greater varieties of human character can wwhere 
be met than in a week's trip on the Mississippi, and 
the student of human nature who enjoys intercourse 
with all sorts of people, can here observe the most 
curiously original types of mankind. The luggage 
stowed on the boiler deck, affords a significant clue to 
the pursuits of your fellow passengers : a large box 
of playing cards supports a package of Bibles, a bowie 
knife is tied to a life-preserver, and a package of gar- 
den seeds rejoices in the same address with a neigh- 
boring keg of powder. There is an old black trunk, 
soiled with the mud of the Lower Nile, and a new 
carpet bag direct from Upper California ; a collapsed 
valise of new shirts and antique sermons is jostled by 
another, plethoric with anti-bilious pills and cholera 
medicines j an elaborate dress, direct from Paris, 
brushes a trapper's Rocky Mountain costume ; a gun- 
case rests upon a bandbox, and a well preserved rifle 
is half enveloped by the folds of an umbrella. The 



228 TEN YEAES OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

volume of a strange, eventful, and ever changing life 
is before you, on the pages of which, are impressed 
phases of original character such as no other country 
produces, no other sphere assembles. 

The crowd of passengers presents a mosaic of our 
cosmopolite population. On the deck are to be 
seen emigrants from every European nation ; in 
the cabin are strangely mingled all the aspects 
of social life — the aristocratic English lord is in- 
trudeJftpon by the ultra socialist ; the conservative^ 
bishop accepts a favor from the graceless gambler ; 
the wealthy planter is heartily amused at the simpli- 
cities of a " northern fanatic the farmer from about 
the arctic regions of Lake Superior, exchanges ideas 
and discovers consanguinity with a heretofore un- 
known person from the everglades of Florida ; the 
frank, open hearted men of the "West are charmed 
with the business thrift of a party from " down East 
politicians of every stripe and religionists of all 
creeds, for the time, drop their wranglings in the 
admiration of lovely woman, or find a neutral ground 
of sympathy in the attractions of a gorgeous sunset. 

The following may be taken as a specimen of the 
droll encounters which often occur on board, afford- 
ing infinite mirth to the bystanders. A sorry-looking 
owner of the human face divine, whose fortunate 
position as agent of the Eothschilds in £Tew Orleans, 
made amends in the eyes of Mammon worshippers for 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 229 

his almost deformed appearance, took his seat with 
ostentations complacency at the breakfast-table, the 
morning after the boat had started. The captain, in- 
formed of the high-standing and long pnrse of his 
distinguished passenger, had instructed one of the 
colored waiters to show him every mark of attention. 
The negro asked, in the most courteous tone, what he 
would have for breakfast. " Some venishun," replied 
the man of money, but in an accent not intelligible 
to the thick ears of Cuffie, who, supposing that a 
nice piece of broiled ham was the daintiest morsel, 
and not aware of the Mosaic- prohibition of hog 
meat, presently reappeared with a slice of bacon, 
whose tempting odor might have seduced a Moham- 
medan. As it was placed on the table with a flou- 
rish, the nose of the Israelite appreciated the nature 
of the article, and with offended dignity, he said, 
" Dat ish ham ! Take it away. I want venishun." 
There sat opposite an old Eentuckian, who embar- 
rassed in his pecuniary affairs, had been making an 
unsuccessful attempt to negotiate a loan, and who 
found a solace to his irritated feelings in the uncom- 
fortable plight of the millionaire. For him, there 
was no delicacy comparable with broiled ham, and 
sharing the vulgar prejudices against the Jews, he 
exclaimed with indignant scorn, as the servant re- 
moved the dish, pointing his knife at his neighbor, 
* Hb, sir, you darsn't eat ham. Tour people crucified 



230 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

the Saviour, and God has cussed you by not allowing 
you to touch pork. Heavens !" he continued, with 
awful solemnity, turning to a friend, "can you think 
of anything more dreadful than not being allowed 
to eat bacon ? And yet, I reckon, the sins of the Jews 
makes it only just," 



CHAP TEE 3 EKOM AH AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



231 



i CHAPTEE XYn. 

THE THUNDERER OF THE BAR AND THE STUMP. 

Leaving winter on the Ohio, I found in New 
Orleans, flowers and the bland atmosphere of summer. 
Seated in the pilothouse, with the steersman for my 
interpreter, I had been overjoyed by my vision of 
the novel and picturesque scenery on the river banks. 
It may seem paradoxical to my readers that one so 
nearly blind as I, should have a keen relish for the 
varieties and beauties of landscape, and yet I fancy 
that few persons enjoy them more. It must be recol- 
lected, that up to the age of five years I had perfect 
sight and had been accustomed throughout child- 
hood to spend the summers in the country, sur- 
rounded by every form of glorious scenery. Memory 
Las vividly preserved the outlines and colors of 
nature, and if I am fortunate enough to have a kind 
hearted companion at hand to sketch the view even 
roughly, imagination, with the ample material which 
remembrance furnishes, fills out the picture. 
Whether the objective reality, or the subjective 
impression, predominate in my portfolio, whether by 



232 TEN" YEARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE ; OE, 

virtue of necessity, fancy colors my canvas after the 
school of Millais or of Raphael, I suppose matters little, 
so only that the outer world becomes to me a pre- 
sence of blessing and of power. 

AH the conditions of a first trip on the Lower Mis- 
sissippi combine to render it a memon^ble journey. 
Your monster boat quivers in every part with 
each stroke of her engine, and the sensitiveness of 
your nerves is increased by the hoarse voices of the 
" scape pipes " as they perform their horrible anti- 
phony throughout the voyage. The din of machinery, 
however, is softened by the chorus of the negro fire- 
men, as they ply their scorching labors before fur- 
naces that might have answered as forges for Yulcan. 
If you succeed in winning the favor of captain 
and pilots, and thus gain a seat by the wheel when 
you please ; you can hear stories of fire and flood, of 
races, collisions, snaggings and explosions, enough to 
haunt your dreams for months. Almost every snag 
and sawyer has its own catastrophe ; each sand 
bar and bend of the river has witnessed some 
frightful accident in which scores, perhaps hun- 
dreds, of human lives changed worlds. Your nar- 
rator details these casualities with all the relish 
with which a soldier speaks of battles, or a surgeon 
of operations. The monotonous scenery on either 
Bide the river does not help to enliven you, the banks 
are leveed at infinite cost, and stand eight or ten feet 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 233 

above the surface of the country, to save the planta- 
tions from annual inundation. For several hundred 
miles above New Orleans, swamps that run parallel 
to the Mississippi on both sides, approach within a 
mile and often nearer. Groves of cottonwood and of 
cypress, wreathed with the Spanish moss which floats 
in pendulous silvery veils along the green walls and 
is significantly styled the curtain of death, fringe the 
interminable morass. The scene however brightens 
at times as you near a town, which may have the 
good luck to be perched upon a bluff or " round to,' 5 or 
at some well ordered plantation, whose noble mansion, 
with its lawn and gardens, is flanked by rows of 
white-washed cottages called the "people's quarters." 
Before long, you become accustomed to your new 
life with its attendant sights and sounds and enter 
into its excitement with zest; the boding thought 
of danger is forgotten, and after a night or two, you 
will sleep as soundly as if at home, over the 
roaring furnace and seething boilers, lulled to 
deeper slumbers by the lately frightful blasts of 
the steampipes. If another boat heave in sight, 
you find yourself becoming anxious that she shall 
not pass you. If she gain upon your craft, all your 
fears about the dangers of racing are laid aside 
and with your fellow passengers, male and female, 
you are urging the captain to do his best. Of course 
be answers that he never races ! — I never knew a 



234 TEN TEAKS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

Mississippi captain that did. He just wanted a little 
fun, " to see how the old thing would go with a full 
head on." Tou run first to the deck to incite the 
firemen, and then to fhe hurricane deck to note the 
speed. The interest deepens, the first shot is fired, 
the battle has opened, and men and even women are 
no longer cowards. Every sense is strained, and yet 
the mind and nerves are wonderfully calm. , Side 
by side the boats go thundering along, and so com- 
pletely has the thought of victory taken possession 
of you, that you would almost as soon be blown 
up as beaten. 

The standard daily recreation of steamboat life is 
" wooding." As the boat nears the wood-yard, the 
captain shouts, " What kind of wood is that ?" The 
reply comes back, " Cord-wood." The captain, still 
in pursuit of information under difficulties, and desir- 
ous of learning if the fuel be dry and fit for his pur- 
pose, bawls out, "How long has it been cut?" 
" Four feet," is the prompt response. The captain, 
exceedingly vexed, next inquires, ""What do you 
sell for ?" " Cash," returns the chopper, replacing 
the corn-cob pipe in his mouth, and smiling 
benignly " on the pile." 

Wood yards are apparently infested with mosqui- 
toes — I say apparently infested— such is the impres 
eion of all accidental sojourners; but it is a strange 
delusion, for though one may think that they fill the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 235 

air, inflame the face and hands, and if of the Arkan- 
sas species, penetrate the flesh through the thickest 
boots ; still upon inquiring of any permanent resi- 
dent, if mosquitoes are numerous, the invariable 
answer is, " Mosquitoes — no ! not about here ; but a 
little way down the river they are awful — thar they 
torment alligators to death, and sting mules Tight 
through their hoofs." 

On a first-class steamer, there may be sixty hands 
engaged in the exciting physical contest of wooding. 
The passengers extend themselves along the guards 
as spectators, and present a brilliant array. The per- 
formance consists in piling on the boat one hundred 
cords of wood in the shortest possible time. The 
steam-boilers seem to sympathize at the sight of the 
fuel, and occasionally breathe forth immense sighs 
of admiration — the pilot increases the noise by 
unearthly screams on the " alarm whistle." The 
mate of the boat, for want of something better to do, 
divides his time between exhortations of " Oh, bring 
them shavings along I" " Don't go to sleep at this 
frolic," and by swearing, of such monstrous propor- 
tions, that even good men are puzzled to decide 
whether he is really profane or simply ridiculous. 
The laborers pursue their calling with the precision 
of clockwork. Upon the shoulders of each are piled 
up innumerable sticks of wood, which are thus car- 
ried from the land into the capacious bowels of the 



236 TEX TEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIEE ; OE, 



steamer. The "last loads, 55 are shouldered — tlie last 
effort to cany "the largest pile 55 is indulged in, 
"Zephyr Sam/ 5 amidst the united cheers of the 
admiring spectators, propels his load, and for the 
thousandth time, wins the palm of being a "model 
darkie/ 5 " the prince of deck hands." 

At length you gain the " Coast, 55 as the country 
on both sides the river for one or two hundred miles 
above ISTew Orleans is called, and you exchange the 
region of cotton, for the sugar country. Nothing can 
be fairer than these green fields in which the genius 
of the summer seems to have taken up his abode, 
and the palatial residences, with their out-buildings 
and neat negro villages, are worthy of their surround- 
ings. The delicate hue of the orange-blossom 
contrasts with the stately pride of the magnolia, and 
the corn-fields are relieved by gardens of roses. 
But sweeping round the sharp horn of a crescent, the 
centre of southwestern trade is soon at your feet, 
literally at your feet ; for as from the deck of the 
steamer, you look down upon its streets, the broad 
river flows at a level so high as to be above the head 
of any man walking them, and the floods are only 
kept in check by a broad, strong levee that fronts the 
town. 

The St. Charles Hotel was the wonder and centre 
of the town. All strangers stopped at it and all 
citizens frequented it. On its ground floor was its 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 23 7 

bai-room, and at ten o'clock at night you beheld it 
in its glory. At least a thousand men, speaking all 
languages, habited in all costumes, representing all 
nationalities, were engaged in laughing, talking, 
betting, quarrelling, chewing, smoking and drinking. 

A sketch of two of the habitues of this place, 
will represent the poles of this strange world of life. 
The first was a man with an idiosyncrasy. He 
followed wood-cutting as a profession and wrought 
with exemplary zeal the six working days, hoard- 
ing every cent not required to furnish him the most 
frugal fare. As his " pile " increased, he invested it in 
gold ornaments : watch-chain of massive links, shirt 
and sleeve buttons, shoe buckles, then buttons for vest 
and coat, a hat-band of the precious metal, a heavy 
gold-headed cane, and in short, wherever an ounce 
of it could be bestowed upon his person, in or out of 
taste, it was done. The glory of his life, his one 
ambition, was to don this curious attire — which was 
deposited for safe-keeping during the week in one of 
the banks — on Sunday morning, and then spend the 
day, " the observed of all observers," lounging about 
the office, or the bar-room of the St. Charles. He 
never drank and rarely spoke. Mystery seemed to 
envelop him. 'No one knew whence he came, or the 
origin of his innocent whim. Old citizens assured 
you, that year after year, his narrow savings were 
measured by the increase of his ornaments, until at 



238 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OE, 

length, the value of the anomalous garments came to 
be estimated by thousands of dollars. By ten o'clock, 
Sunday night, the exhibition was closed, his one day 
of self-gratification enjoyed, his costly wardrobe was 
returned to the bank-vault, and he sank back into 
the obscurity of a wood-chopper. 

The other, as different from the fore-mentioned as 
genius from stupidity, was Seargent S. Prentiss, the 
renowned lawyer and orator. He was a compound of 
contradictions. With a noble bust and superb head, 
he was yet short of stature, and was deformed by a 
shrivelled leg. The master of nearly all manly accom- 
plishments, a fearless rider and bold hunter, he yet 
halted painfully in his gait ; with exuberant animal 
spirits and matchless powers of conversation, (which 
made him the delight and soul of every social circle) 
he would sometimes, in solitude, locking himself in 
for whole days, shed scalding tears, goaded almost to 
madness by morbid self-torture. Gifted with every 
power to win the admiration, confidence and love 
of women, he shrank from their society, dreading 
lest his one drawback should excite unsympathetic 
remark, and this, when his genius had already 
dazzled the first minds of the country. Born 
and bred a Puritan, he was the representative 
man of southwestern life. Pacific in disposition, 
and remarkable for sweetness of temper, he was 
famous as'a duellist. With virtues of character that 



4 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 239 

won for him the lasting regard of all good men that 
ever knew him, it is nevertheless computed that he 
lost hundreds of thousands of dollars by gambling ; 
possessed of a fancy as gentle and sportive as Her- 
berts or Cowper's, I suppose that the eloquence of 
invective has produced nothing since the days of 
Demosthenes, equal to his thunders against Missis- 
sippi repudiation. The most effective man on the 
stump in the country, he at the same time shone con- 
spicuously in its highest courts. Cogent in argu- 
ment, copious in imagination, he pleased while 
he persuaded, convinced while he charmed. "With 
a memory whose wax-like retentiveness held not 
only the thoughts and images, but even words, of 
ancient and modern poetry, there was coupled a wit 
as fertile as it was brilliant and an understanding 
robust as it was comprehensive and original. The 
Bible, Shakspeare, and Milton were his hand-books 
and it is said that he knew them from lid to lid. His 
pathos was as extraordinary as his scorn. At first 
you might have fancied him a mere rhetorician, but 
he had not proceeded far before you found him a 
consummate orator. He was master of all the 
passions of the human soul, and moved them as the 
expert musician draws from his instrument a concord 
of sweet sounds. He gave in bounty what might 
have been the ransom of princes, yet toward the 
proud he showed the pride of Lucifer. He would 



210 



TE1S" TEAKS OF PEEACHEE-LIFE ; OR, 



stand before a crowd of repudiating Mississippi 
voters, hurling at them taunts, ridicule, sarcasm, 
defiance, until their faces grew pale and their lips 
livid with rage. And then when the pestilence 
walked the streets of the city, and in almost every 
house there was found one dead ; without a thought 
of personal danger, he would devote weeks to the bed- 
bides of the poor and the stranger, with all the watch- 
ful tenderness and untired patience of a woman. 
He was the idol of children and no less of Indian 
warriors. He is said to have delivered the greatest 
speech ever made in the Halls of Congress, and 
yet the people of the backwoods grew almost 
delirious under the spell of his eloquence. Before 
the pistol of an antagonist at ten paces, his mien was 
calm, his nerves firm as steel; but if introduced to a 
lady, his knees trembled, and his embarrassment 
would have been ludicrous had it not been so painful. 
Take him for all in all, he seems to me the most 
wonderful man that our country has produced. And 
yet he has left little to justify this remark to the 
world, if I except the unparalled impression upon all 
who ever knew or heard him. 

Leaving Maine, his native State, when 19 years of 
age, he made his way to Cincinnati and thence to 
ZSTatchez. His object was, by teaching, to provide the 
means of preparing himself for the bar. " I left 
Cincinnati," he said, "because everything was so 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. ' 241 

tauie, everything so cheap. I couldn't spend a nine- 
pence. I was haunted too, by the ghosts of slaugh- 
tered swine. I arrived at Natchez with one five dol- 
lar bill in my pocket. I knew that it was not a cap- 
ital to trade upon, and I spent it in the purchase of 
confidence. So soon as I reached the threshold of 
mine host, the Boniface of the hotel, I ordered a bottle 
of wine with cigars, and called the landlord, as the 
only guest, to join me. He drank, and I told him 
who I was, what I wanted, and what he had to expect 
in the way of pay for my fare, beyond what was 
before us. He looked at my face, said he would 
trust it, gave me his hand, and without a word more 
did trust me for board and lodging till I got a school. 
I kept school and cleared ground enough, of birchen 
rods with which I taught the young idea how to 
shoot, to entitle me to a preemption right of public 
land." He brought letters of introduction to a 
wealthy merchant of Natchez, from whom he bor- 
rowed fifteen dollars with the promise to return it 
as soon as he was able; at the close of his first 
quarter's tuition, he came into town with a proud 
heart to fulfill his pledge, but was shocked by a 
severe reproof which the strict man of debt and 
credit administered for his delay and the trouble 
it had given. Some years afterward, Prentiss 
gained a suit for this old friend, which saved him 

the bulk of his fortune, and the generous friend 

11 



242 TEX YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OB, 

of the old time counted out a five dollar bill as the 
fee, which the lawyer had left to his honor. 

Removing to Yicksburg, notwithstanding his youth 
and that he was a Yankee, he at once took the fore- 
most position at the bar, and was ere long drawn 
into the maelstrom of politics, as every man of de- 
cided character in the South soon will be. Although 
he defended many a man charged with murder, and 
no doubt often robbed the gallows of its due, he 
never, except in two instances, prosecuted men 
charged with capital offences. One of these was a 
desperado named Phelps, who after a series of high 
crimes and misdemeanors, setting the officers of the 
law at defiance, had killed an unoffending citizen in 
cold blood. He had borne himself throughout the 
trial with the insolence of a bravo, treating all per- 
sons in the court with disdain. When Mr. Prentiss 
rose as the assistant of the prosecuting attorney, to 
deliver his speech, the ruffian glared fiercely at him, 
like a wild beast ready to spring upon a victim ; but 
as the lawyer proceeded to rehearse his crimes and 
portrayed them in the dark colors of their guilt, the 
culprit quailed, his head sank upon his breast, and he 
sat abashed and overwhelmed, not daring to lift his eyes 
again until after sentence of death had been pro- 
nounced. "While in the jail awaiting his execution, he 
sent for the man who had sealed his fate, and the heart 
which had long been chilled and defiled in the breast of 



CHAPTERS FKCftI AST AUTOBIOG-EAPHY. 243 



guilt, softened and bared itself to the prosecutor. 
He told the story of his life to Mr. Prentiss and 
then mentioned that he had formed the purpose of 
escaping during the trial. His plan was twofold; 
first to leap upon his prosecutor, who aside from his 
lameness, had the look of a mere boy ; to kill him, 
and then amidst the confusion, secure his own flight. 
He was deterred from attempting to execute this 
fine scheme, by reading in the eye and bearing of 
the youthful orator unmistakable signs that such an 
attempt would prove an ignominious failure. "When 
he had disclosed his plans, Mr. Prentiss quietly 
remarked, "I saw it all, but I was prepared for you. 75 
His main object, in soliciting the interview, was to 
unbosom himself by making known the particulars of 
his private history. 

In those days, the law of honor was the higher 
law religiously obeyed in Mississippi. Street fights 
and duels were of daily occurrence, and every pro- 
fessional and political man was expected to take a 
hand with rifle, pistol, or bowie knife, as often as 
convenient. Such was the general delight in these 
encounters, that as soon as the sound of shots was 
heard, the entire community flocked to the scene to 
witness the exhibition. It is related that as two gen- 
tlemen were engaged in target practice at each other, 
in one of the villages of Mississippi, some twenty 
years ago, an overgrown lad, the down upon whoso 



%4A TEN YEARS OF PRE AC HER-LIFE J OR, 



dbia scarce required a razor, rushed up and down the 
street along which the bullets were whizzing, wring- 
ing his hands and shrieking convulsively, while tears 
dropped from his eves — " A gun ! a gun ! will no- 
body lend me a gun ? I understand it's a free fight 
and I'm dying to have a crack." 

It was a matter of course that so conspicuous a 
person as Mr. Prentiss should take his share in these 
honorable encounters, which were of almost daily 
occurrence in Yicksburg. It is stated, on what seems 
good authority, that an enterprising capitalist built & 
steam ferryboat to ply between this thriving city, 
and the opposite bank of the river where the formal 
interviews usually took place, for the express accom- 
modation of the duellists, their friends and an inte- 
rested public. It is added that the returns £roni the 
investment were large — the fare charged was twenty- 
five cents each way. Mr. P. had scarcely made his 
brilliant debut at the Yicksburg bar before a plan 
was set on foot to get him out of the way. It 
was arranged that a person who, having been born 
and educated a gentleman; had thrown himself 
away and was fast becoming a sot, but who 
was withal a capital marksman, should perform 
this service for the community. His second bore 
the challenge. Prentiss quietly read it and stated 
that he would answer it at his own time and in 
his own way. Selecting one of his best shirts, ha 



CHAPTERS FKOM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 245 



dispatched it by his body-servant with, the follow- 
ing note : 

" Sir : I accept your challenge, but with one pro- 
viso — that yon appear on the ground in the accom- 
panying piece of raiment, as it is impossible for me 
to fight any one who does not observe the externals 
of a gentleman." 

The gentleman withdrew the challenge, but kept 
the shirt. Mr. Prentiss had two duels with General 
Foote, which, by the way, were the only times he 
ever fought, for the various little episodes with fists 
and canes are not to be taken into the account. At 
their second meeting, a large crowd was assembled 
to witness the scene. One shot had been fired, 
Foote's ball flying wide of his antagonist, while 
Prentiss' had missed fire. The parties were placed 
at ten paces for the second round, pistol in hand, 
only waiting the word. The intense interest of the 
spectators had drawn them in two long lines close to 
the combatants, leaving only a narrow lane for the 
passage of the balls. An urchin, who had small 
chance to see, in the crowd, had taken a tree in the 
rear of Mr. P., and by alert climbing was rapidly 
gaining the branches, where from a comfortable seat 
he might witness the transaction. Prentiss observed 
him and said in his kindest tone, " My son, you had 



246 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ] OR, 



better look out ; I am afraid you will be hit. Gene- 
ral Foote is shooting very wild to-day." The remark 
and the manner of its delivery called forth a round 
of three cheers from the bystanders, when, order 
being restored, the fight proceeded. 

As he was about to retire one morning toward 
three o'clock, there was a violent rap at the door ; 
opening it, he encountered a mechanic known to him 
by sight, who was evidently under the influence of 
liquor, and demanded immediate satisfaction for 
some fancied insult he had received at Mr. P.'s 
hands. Prentiss reasoned with him, suggesting that 
he should go home and sleep on the matter, and if, 
after cool reflection, he desired to appease his honor, 
he should be satisfied ; but the fellow was immova- 
bly set upon fighting then and there. Always dis- 
posed to oblige his friends, Mr. P. called up his 
body-servant Burr, and good-humoredly requested 
him to bring his case of duelling pistols, and then 
proceeded with great deliberation to load them. 
Giving the choice to the aspirant for duelling distinc- 
tion, he took the other, and it was arranged that the 
parties should take their stands on the piazza in rear 
of the office, at eight paces. Burr, greatly elated at 
the thought of his important post, was to hold the 
candles, so that the light, falling through the win- 
dows, should be thrown directly upon the combat- 
tants. When all things were in readiness, he was to 



CHAPTEKS FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 247 

count, in a loud, clear voice from one to five ; the fir- 
ing to take place at discretion, anywhere between the 
first and the last number. Pistol in hand, the men 
took their stand, their eyes glancing along the bar- 
rels ; waiting only the dreadful word, one ! . . . when 
the mechanic, flinging his pistol to the ground, cried, 
"Prentiss, do you suppose I'm such a fool as to be 
fighting you at three o'clock in the morning, with 
nobody but a nigger by ? I thought I was as brave 
a man as you are, but I ain't ; so let's shake hands 
and be friends." 

Riding the circuit in Mississippi a quarter of a 
century ago was no child's play. Bench and bar, 
mounted on horseback, with briefs and records 
stuffed into saddle-bags, had to make long journeys 
over roads which were sometimes knee-deep in mud 
and which sometimes dwindled to a bridle-path or 
even to a faint trace ; fording and swimming streams 
frequently out of their banks, flooding the country 
for miles on either side, and crossing swamps where 
miring was a common occurrence, and where it was 
no uncommon thing for a quicksand to swallow the 
horse and put the rider up to all he knew to save his 
own life. The taverns were log cabins, so were the 
court-houses and jails. The recreations of the sprigs 
of the law — after a hard day's journey, or the yet 
more arduous duties of the court-room — were story- 
telling, whisky punch or whisky reverend (as the un- 



248 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

mixed is styled), and a game of " seven-up " or 
hi poker,' 5 in which, jndge, jurors, sheriff, clerk, wit- 
nesses, clients and lawyers united. 

I cannot refrain from inserting here the account of 
one of Mr. Prentiss' journeys, from the pen of Col. 
Baillie Peyton, as characteristic of the man and the 
times. 

" On landing at Yicksburg, in November of 
1843, en route from Tennessee to "New Orleans, I 
found Mr. Prentiss and Col. Forrester, an old friend 
and former colleague in Congress from Tennessee, 
looking out for me. They made so strong an appeal, 
that I was induced to leave the steamer and accom- 
pany them to Hillsborough, the county seat of Scott 
County, situated in the interior of Mississippi, where 
the Board of Commissioners appointed by the Presi- 
dent to adjudicate the claim of the Choctaw Indians, 
was about to meet. A few days before my arrival, 
a most violent and calumnious article appeared in a 
newspaper published at Yicksburg, in which these 
claims were denounced as fraudulent and Col. For- 
rester and Mr. Prentiss held up in a most odious 
light before the public. The name of the author 
was demanded, and after some hesitation, rather 
than meet the consequences of a refusal, the editor 
agreed to place in the hands of Mr. Prentiss a sealed 
package containing fall and undeniable evidence of 
the authorship, to be opened at Hillsborough, on con- 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 249 



dition that Mr. , one of the commissioners, 

should deny himself to be the author of the article. 

"This expedition, partaking somewhat of both a 
civil and military character, afforded the best oppor- 
tunity I ever had for appreciating the personal 
qualities and splendid abilities of Mr. Prentiss. Our 
journey led through Jackson, the capital of the 
State, where I heard him publicly denounce repudia- 
tion as a crime, as an act of moral turpitude, when 
surrounded by repudiators who had all 6 been out,' 
and many of whom had shot their man with perfect 
impunity ; but those who did not like him too well, 
dreaded him too much to make it a personal matter. 

"After travelling several days over roads almost 
impassable, through a country thinly settled, chiefly 
by squatters, we arrived at Hillsborough. It was a 
small village, with the forest trees standing on the 
public square and in most of the streets. Here and 
there lay a fallen trunk, cut down for fire-wood; the 
limbs being lopped off as occasion required. The 
court-house, jail and private dwellings were built of 
trees, the former and some of the latter having two 
sides hewn. At this rude place were collected an 
immense number of Choctaw Indians and land 
speculators. 

"The object of Mr. P.'s visit was to expose the 

commissioner, who had publicly denounced the 

claims he was about to adjudicate, drive him from 

11* 



250 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

the Board, or induce the other commissioners to 
refuse to sit with him, on the ground that he had 
disqualified himself, both as a judge and as a gentle- 
man, to be associated with them in the decision of 
causes w r hich he had prejudged; and also to demand 
personal satisfaction for the abusive article. 

"This journey to Hillsborough, as I have said — the 
nature of the business which called him there — the 
crowd of men, savage, semi-savage, civilized and semi- 
civilized, amongst whom he was thrown, and to all 
of whom he was the chief object of attention; the 
philippics he hurled in the face of that com- 
missioner, presented S. S. Prentiss in a great variety 
of scenes and in a more interesting point of view 
than I ever saw him or any other man. 

" "We arrived a day or two before the Board was 
convened for the transaction of business, and put up 
with an unlettered but well-meaning old gentleman, 
who filled a variety of public offices; being the 
town "squire," jailer and tavern-keeper, in which 
last vocation he had many competitors. 

" "When not otherwise employed, we amused our- 
selves in shooting squirrels, which proved to be no 
small accession to our bill-of-fare. Broiled grey 
squirrels are quite a delicacy when properly, cooked, 
and this Mr. Prentiss superintended in person, call- 
ing loudly for butter with which to dress them. 

"He was formally introduced to the chief, ' Captain 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. * 251 

Post Oak,' a perfect model of the natural man, six 
feet six or eight inches in height ; he joined, too, in 
the sports of the Indians, among other things shooting 
blow-guns, at which he soon became so expert that 
he beat the best of them. A blow-gun is formed of 
a reed or cane, from twelve to fifteen feet in length, 
bored through so as to admit the passage of a light 
arrow, which is ejected by the breath; hence the 
name. "With this weapon the Indians are able to 
bring down birds and squirrels from the trees. 

"In passing the jail one day, we caught a glimpse 
of a prisoner confined in the dungeon or lower story. 
He beckoned us to the grates, and then, through 
livid lips and chattering teeth, for it was frosty 
ISTorember weather, poured forth a touching appeal 
for protection, strongly protesting his innocence and 
declaring his ignorance of the charge against him. 
Additional interest was imparted to the situation of 
this man, on account of the fate of two who had been 
recently elected to the gallows by a public meeting 
of the sovereigns. 

" Repairing forthwith to the tavern, we inquired 
of our landlord as to the charge against him and 
requested, as his counsel, to see the mittimus upon 
which he was committed. The " Squire " appeared 
to be somewhat embarrassed, and at length acknow- 
ledged that there had been no regular commitment, 
Dor even any specific charge against him ; but said 



252 # TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OB, 

the fellow was a doubtful character and had been 
imprisoned on suspicion. c On suspicion of what?' 
asked Mr. Prentiss. " Has anybody been killed, or 
robbed, or lost a horse, a hog or a cow? 5 'No, 
no,' said the Squire, 'nothing of that sort has hap * 
pened, but then he is a kind of surplus character, 
circulating about, and not very agre'ble at that.' 

" Mr. Prentiss declared that he should be set free ; 
that if the Squire refused to turn him out, he should 
be discharged on habeas corpus, if he had to go to 
Jackson himself for the writ, and sue every man con- 
cerned in his detention, for false imprisonment. This 
startled the Squire, who had never seen nor had he 
any definite idea of a writ of habeas corpus, and 
entertaining a respect mingled with awe for Mr. 
Prentiss, he consented to discharge the prisoner. 
Unfortunately however, his son, who had that 
morning ridden twelve miles into the country in 
quest of butter wherewith to dress our squirrels, had 
carried the key of the jail with him ; so that it could 
not be opened until he came back. Meanwhile, Mr. 
Prentiss, whose whole heart was now in the matter, 
and who felt like an ancient knight bent upon the 
rescue of an unfortunate captive from some feudal 
castle, returned to console the prisoner with the pros- 
pect of his early liberation. He, poor fellow, stood 
shivering, with sunken eyes and hollowed cheeks, 
looking the picture of despair. Mr. Prentiss 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 253 



inquired if lie did not think a little brandy would 
help him ! 6 Mightily ! but there is no chance to get 
it in to me. 5 Mr. Prentiss, however, set his fertile 
ingenuity to work, and succeeded, by introducing a 
blow-gun through the grates, one end of which the 
prisoner put to his mouth, while the brandy was 
poured into the other. 

" Finally, the young man having returned with the 
key, he was brought to the tavern, ate a hearty meal, 
received a handsome purse, sufficient to supply his 
immediate wants, and went on his way rejoicing ; 
looking upon his liberation as next to a miracle, and 
on the generous man who accomplished it, as his 
good angel. 

" There was to me something inexpressibly interest- 
ing in this scene, as the poor fellow gazed in the face 
of his deliverer, and hung around him as though he 
felt secure in his newly-gained freedom, only in the 
presence of Mr. Prentiss. It called to mind the 
touching picture of Uncle Toby at the bedside of 
Lefevre, and the effect produced by his honest, bene- 
volent face, in winning the heart of the little son of 
the dying officer, who was unconsciously drawn to 
his side and took hold of his hand. 

" All that Sterne said of his hero, and more, might 
without exaggeration be said of Mr. Prentiss. 
'There was a frankness in him which led you at 
once into his soul, and showed you his goodness of 



254: TEX TEAKS OF PREACHER -LIFE J OE, 



nature. There was something in his look, and voice, 
and manner, which internally beckoned to the unfor- 
tunate, inviting them to come and take shelter under 
him.' He was, indeed, a man whom, at first sight, 
the lowest would trust, the distressed appeal to and 
the brave confide in. 

"But to return to our business at Hillsborough. 
When the Board met in the log cabin, the scene was 
picturesque in the extreme. There were the three com- 
missioners, Mr. Graves, Mr. Tyler (a brother of the 

President of the United States) and Mr. , with 

their clerk, seated on one side of a table made of 
pine boards ; on the other sat the counsel of the 
Indians, while the building was filled to overflowing 
with their clients, hundreds of whom, unable to find 
room inside, were crowded around the house, with 
their swarthy faces and dark eyes peering through 
the apertures between the logs. 

" Mr. Prentiss rose to a preliminary question, and 
handing a newspaper containing the offensive arti- 
cle to Mr. , inquired whether he was or was not 

the author ; to which he replied, with some hesita- 
tion and evident embarrassment, in the negative. 
Whereupon, Mr. Prentiss drew, from his pocket and 
broke the seal of an envelope containing the papers 
which had beeu placed in his hands by the editor of 
the Vicksburg Sentinel. They proved to be the 
original manuscript from which the article was pub- 



CHAPTERS FROM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 255 



iiGhed, in the handwriting of Mr. , and also lii3 

letter to the editor which accompanied the same. 
In this letter he boldly assumed whatever responsi- 
bility might attach to him as author of the article, 
and in advance tendered personal satisfaction to the 
party aggrieved, As these documents were pro- 
duced, and the truth flashed upon him, the commis- 
sioner made a lame effort to qualify his denial by 
saying, ' I was the writer, but not the author of the 
article, having copied it for a friend.' 

"Mr. Prentiss proceeded to read the letter and 
manuscript article, in the latter of which 6 one For- 
rester,' and certain ' influential men' acting with 
him, were denounced in unmeasured terms, the 
claims they advocated condemned, as c the most stu- 
pendous fraud ever devised,' and the whole thing 
represented as a deeply-laid plot to swindle the 
United States and the good people of Mississippi. 

" The commissioner was eulogized as if he were the 
only man in the commission who possessed the 
talents, honesty, independence and patriotism to 
throw himself in the breach and resist the pecu- 
lators. 

" Having read these documents with marked deli- 
beration and emphasis, Mr. Prentiss threw down the 
papers and raised himself to his full height, his noble 
front erect and chest expanded by the tension of his 
soul ; his countenance then glowed with the fire of 



256 



rEX YEAPwS OF PEE AC H EE-LIFE ; OK, 



intellect, and his eve consumed, with 1 lightnings of 
scorn that laughed forth as he spoke/ the form of 
that base commissioner. Tims as he stood, the 
painter or the sculptor who should have mirrored his 
features on canvas, or graven them in marble, would 
have then and there won immortality. 

" Ere he had uttered one word, his work was ac- 
complished; the man was gone — the former judge 
was the convicted culprit. During the two hours in 
which that torrent of eloquence descended, I do not 
believe its effect at any moment exceeded what his 
look had realized. I never till then understood the 
force of an expression used by Disraeli, I believe in 
describing Voltaire, ; That he possessed in a remark- 
able degree, ■ physiognomical eloquence. 5 If the 
philippic of Cicero which drove Catiline from Rome 
was as terrible, no wonder that traitor left the city. 

'•On this occasion, Mr. Prentiss, with an oppressed 
nation as his clients, had a noble theme for oratory, 
scarcely inferior in interest and variety to that of 
Sheridan in the trial of Hastings. 

;i He gave a most interesting history of the Choc- 
taws as a nation, of their pacific character and uni- 
form friendship for people of the United States; 
dwelling with great effect upon the oppression and 
injustice which they had already experienced. He 
described what a judge should be, investing him with 
almost divine attributes of virtue, and wisdom, and 



CHAP TEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 257 



justice; and then contrasted such a pure and ele- 
vated character with the prejudiced partisan and 
unprincipled demagogue, who acting in the name, 
and clothed with the power of his government, was 
about to crush the last hope of an injured people, 
and filch from them the mite which that government, 
in the exercise of its resistless power, had seen fit to 
grant them. In alluding to the wrongs which the 
Choctaws had experienced in return for their good 
conduct, he melted the hearts of all — Indians and 
white men — and drew tears from eyes before which 
death had no terrors ; groans and sobs burst from 
stoic bosoms, and cheeks were wet which had seldom 
or never been profaned by a tear. 

"The Board adjourned to consider the motion to 
expel Mr. , and at its next sitting he read a pro- 
test against the power of his colleagues to deprive 
him of a commission he received from the President 
of the United States, which was the occasion of 
such another speech from Mr. Prentiss as I have just 
described. But the other commissioners refused to 
sit with him, referred the question to Washington 
for the decision of the President and adjourned 
sine die. 

"The personal satisfaction which had been tendered 

in advance by Mr. -, was refused by him, and 

having thus retreated beyond the pale of honor, ho 
was dropped. The President afterward removed him." 



258 TEN YEAES OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

Mr. Prentiss 5 power over juries is illustrated by 
the following incident which occurred in a piney- 
woods region, not far from Pearl River, Mississippi. 
He appeared for the defendant in a suit brought for 
damage, the panel, composed of wire-grass people, 
were thrilled by his marvellous eloquence, and despis- 
ing the technical forms of the law ; without retiring 
from the box, agreed upon their verdict, which was 
thus delivered viva voce by the foreman ; " We finds 
for lawyer Prentiss, the plaintive to pay the costs." 

He was the head and front of that party in the 
State, respectable for intelligence and position, but 
overweighed at the polls, which insisted ujgon the 
payment of the bonds due from Mississippi to her 
creditors. This party had been defeated in one 
popular election, but some of the leaders thought 
that success might yet be attained - by nominating 
for the office of governor, Judge Sharkey, a man of 
irreproachable character and withal very popular in 
the State. Mr. P. felt that it would be hazarding 
too much to remove Judge S. from the place of 
Chief Justice on the Supreme Bench, and subject 
him to the chance of a popular election, he therefore 
induced the nominating Committee of the "Whig 
Convention, assembled in Jackson in June, 1843, to 
alter their determination of proposing Judge Sharkey, 
and to substitute the name of another promises t mem- 
ber of the party. This created a perfect furor of 



CHAPTERS FROM AJST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 259 

dissatisfaction among the members of that body. 
Complaints and murmurs arose from all quarters of 
the ball. ]STo one objected to the gentleman who 
was offered, but nearly everybody preferred Judge 
Sharkey. 

During all this excitement, Mr. Prentiss, clad 
carelessly in a plain summer suit, his collar open and 
his fine flowing locks streaming unarranged and 
almost wildly, sat perfectly calm and silent. The 
time had not arrived at which he decided to mingle 
in the strife and assign the reasons for^his conduct. 
At length a member addressed the president, and 
propo^pd to strike out the name of the person re- 
ported from the Committee as the candidate, and to 
insert that of ¥m. L. Sharkey. The motion was 
not even seconded before Mr. Prentiss sprang, rather 
than rose, to his feet, threw his well-known stick 
in its accustomed place to support his infirm limb, 
and advancing energetically to the front of his desk, 
began to pour forth one of those powerful and over- 
whelming torrents of eloquence for which he has 
become so famed. The peculiar sound of his cane, 
as he limped along from his seat (a sound which is 
well remembered in Mississippi and which never 
failed to draw universal attention whenever, during 
his service in Congress, he entered the Hall of Repre- 
sentatives), at once stilled the audience into the 
most perfect silence. Every one could see that the 



260 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

mood was upon him, and that he had been touched 
by the magic wand of his ministering Genius. He 
assailed the motion, as striking a death-blow at the 
already crippled character of Mississippi. "With more 
than usual skill, he drew a graphic picture of the 
whole array of repudiators, "with their ragged 
pirate flag, borne shamelessly in the midst of them, 
advancing in swarms to do their murderous, in- 
famous work. He described them as "Huns," 
guided by leaders who owned all the atrocious prin- 
ciples of Attila, without possessing his courage or 
his talents." Alluding to the defeat which the 
bond-payers had sustained at the last elections, he 
spoke with power unsurpassed against that policy 
which dictated to us, " after having lost the main 
battle and been driven back from every post and 
routed at all points, to draw our greatest leader 
from the strong citadel of the Supreme Court to 
encounter an uncertain fate in a hazardous cam- 
paign." This citadel maintained, he declared that 
the "wild beast of Repudiation" was restrained 
from striking, at least, the last fatal and irrecover- 
able blow on the already prostrate name of Missis- 
sippi. " Here, after having scattered his vile foam 
and exhaled his pestilential breath in every other 
quarter, he could at last be muzzled and strangled." 
He then spoke with deep feeling of the purity, 
learning and spotless character of Judge Sharkey^ 



CHAPTEES FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 261 

and declared that "the honest men of Mississippi 
could not spare him from the bench at such a time." 
His court " was the last refuge left under the inflic- 
tions of this worse than Egyptian plague," and they 
would rise up in one solid mass to protest against 
his being surrendered — against the "letting go of 
our only hold, to flounder amidst the uncertainties 
of a political campaign." He said, with an expres- 
sion of countenance that thrilled the audience, that 
" Judge Sharkey should not be forced to soil the 
pure ermine of judicial eminence by seeking an 
engagement with this unclean monster." Still, he 
continued, it was " essential to fight the beast, pes- 
tiferous as it was." He had read in Roman history- 
that the march of a whole army had been once 
arrested by coming in contact with a huge serpent, 
whose very breath poisoned the entire atmosphere 
around them. Eegulus halted his columns and 
decided that safety called for the destruction of the 
monster, even though many human lives should be 
the forfeit. If the serpent, as was naturally to be 
expected, should follow on their march, the whole 
army must inevitably be swept away by pestilence ; 
and thus, day after day, were detachments drawn 
out, until the destroyer was in turn destroyed. 
" Our march," he continued, " to fame and to great- 
ness as a State has been impeded by the interven- 
tion of this vile serpent, Repudiation." "Its hiss 



262 TEST YEAES OF PREACH EE-LIFE ; OE, 

is heard from every hill and through every broad 
valley of Mississippi. Already its venom has blighted 
their bloom and freshness ; the very air by which 
they were nourished is contaminated, and certain 
death seems to be the fate of all who venture 
within the tainted precincts. One. only spot is safe 
from its noxious influence, and let us rather closely 
guard every avenue of approach, than open the 
way for the incursion of this fell destroyer. He 
should be fought by the subordinates, the rank and 
file of the army ; but all America would deplore and 
ridicule the policy which the resolution in question, 
if adopted, must force upon the bond-paying party." 

Col. Thorpe thus described a scene which oc 
curred at New Orleans, in February, 1844, on occa- 
sion of Mr. Clay's visit. "The streets about the St. 
Charles Hotel presented a vast ocean of heads, and 
every building commanding a view was literally 
covered with human beings. The great statesman 
of the "West presented himself to the multitude, be- 
tween the tall columns of the finest portico in the 
country. The scene was beyond description. As 
the crowd swayed to and fro, a shout was raised for 
Mr. Clay to speak ; he uttered a sentence or two, 
waved his hand in adieu, and escaped amidst . the 
prevailing confusion. Prentiss meanwhile, evidently 
unconscious of being himself noticed, was at a side 
window, gazing upon what was passing with all the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 2G3 



delight of the humblest spectator. Suddenly his 
name was announced. He attempted to withdraw 
from public gaze, but his friends pushed him forward. 
Again his name was shouted, hats and caps were 
thrown in the air and he was finally compelled 
to show himself on the portico. With remarkable 
delicacy, he chose a less prominent place than that 
previously occupied by Mr. Clay, although perfectly 
visible. He thanked his friends for their kindness 
by repeated bows and by such smiles as he alone 
could give. 'A speech! a speech! 5 thundered a 
thousand voices. He lifted his hand, in an instant 
everything was still — then pointing to the group that 
had surrounded Mr. Clay, he said, 6 Fellow citizens, 
when the eagle is soaring in the sky, the owls and 
the bats retire to their holes. 5 And long before the 
shout that followed this remark ceased, Prentiss had 
disappeared amid the multitude. 55 

The popular assembly was the place of his proudest 
exhibitions. To the multitude, he was as a trumpet. 
He said, " Fellow citizens ! 55 and, auribus erectis, the 
people stood still, or swayed to and fro, or shouted, or 
were sad, smiled or frowned, at his magic will. He 
was invited just after the adjournment of Congress, 
in the summer of 1838, to address a mass meeting at 
Havre de Grace, Maryland, and thus made his bow 
to the audience: "Fellow citizens, by the Fathei 



264: TE^ YEAES OF PKEACHEK-LIFE ; OB, 

of "Waters at New Orleans, I have said Fellow citi- 
zens — on the banks of the beautiful Ohio, I have said 
Fellow citizens — here I say Fellow citizens — and a 
thousand miles beyond this, North, thanks be to 
God, I can still say, Fellow citizens!" Thus, in 
a single sentence, he saluted his audience, drew 
every man, woman and child near to him, made 
himself dear to them ; by a word covered the 
continent — by a line mapped the United States 
from the Gulf to the Lakes — by a greeting warm 
from the heart, beaming-from the countenance ; de- 
picted the whole country, its progress, development, 
grandeur, glory and union. Every hat was whirled 
in the ah*, every handkerchief was waving, the wel- 
kin rung with hurrahs, the multitude heaved up 
to the stand, stood on tip-toe and shouted cheer after 
cheer, as if wild with joy and mad with excitement. 

While Mr. Prentiss was delivering a speech in 
Faneuil Hall, Boston, Edward Everett, unable to 
contain himself, turned to Mr. "Webster and said, 
" Did you ever hear such astonishing eloquence ?" 
"Never from any one, but Mr. Prentiss himself," 
was Mr. Webster's reply. 

During the presidential canvass of 184-i, he was 
making one of his great speeches before an immense 
audience in Nashville, Tennessee. Overcome by his 
exertions, he fell fainting into the arms of his friend, 



CHAPTEE3 FEO^I AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 265 



Gov. Jones, who, frenzied with excitement, shouted 
at the top of bis voice, over the unconscious form 
which, he supported, "Die, Prentiss! die now, you 
will never have again an opportunity so glorious." 

Having used his best exertions to convert the 
people of Mississippi from their disgraceful policy of 
Repudiation, and mortified beyond expression at the 
idea of remaining in £ State which refused to pay its 
debts, he removed, in 1844, to In ew Orleans. It was 
in the bar-room of the St. Charles, in February, 1848, 
that I saw this extraordinary person for the first time. 
He died a little more than two years after, in his 
forty-second year. His death was hastened by the 
fearful drafts made upon his admirable constitution 
in his political career ; and by the superhuman exer- 
tions he put forth in professional labors, to relieve 
himself from embarrassments which hedged him 
about, and were in great part the results of gaming. 
Few books of American biography reveal a charac- 
ter possessed of such sweet, beautiful and noble 
traits, adorned with the highest gifts of genius, and 
enriched by all the culture possible in his position, as 
the Memoirs of S. S. Prentiss ; to which by the 
way, I am indebted for much of the material for this 
sketch. But few leave so painful and sad an im- 
pression. It is the story of a man who might have 
been the boast of his race — the glory of his nation ; 



12 



266 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

who with, talents and opportunities the greatest, died 
before his time, and now discrowned of his kingly 
power, with ghostly finger points the eyes of his 
countrymen to that solemn warning coupled with the 
imperishable truth, " Whatsoever a man soweth, that 
also shall he reap." 



4 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



26? 



CHAPTEE Xm 

U GOING TO AND FRO IN THE EARTH, AND WALKING PP 
AND DOWN IN IT." 

It liad been my intention to winter in the South, 
and bear warm weather company in its progress 
northward. Accordingly, after a sojourn of two or 
three weeks in that least American of our cities, 
ITew Orleans, I crossed the lake and gained the 
quiet town of Mobile. During my stay among kind 
friends in this place, I received a. letter from the pre- 
siding elder of the Montgomery district, in which he 
stated that the church in Montgomery was without a 
preacher and that they would like to secure my 
services. The world was open to me where to 
choose a residence, my passion for travelling was 
sated for the present, I yearned for an opportunity 
to devote myself to study. I was charmed with the 
beautiful social life and warm-hearted hospitality of 
the South, and above all I longed for a home, and for 
the opportunity to keep up something like a personal 
acquaintance with my wife and child. These con- 
siderations, together with an inviting field of labor, 
decided me to accept the offer. 



263 



TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OK, 



As we drew near tlie end of a pleasant steamboat 
sail of four hundred miles from Mobile, a company 
of passengers were seated on tlie boiler deck, enjoy- 
ing the scenery of the beautiful Alabama. The boat 
swept around a bend of the river, disclosing the 
noble amphitheatre of hills on which Montgomery is 
built ; a fine State-House stands on the left, and 
stretching away to the right, every eminence is crown- 
ed with handsome residences, surrounded by gardens 
and forest trees, forming an exquisite landscape. 
But our quiet enjoyment was suddenly broken upon 
by peals of laughter. The pilot, who had kept his 
steam-whistle for some time silent, sounded an un- 
earthly scream, loud, long and piercing, from this 
favorite instrument. A distinguished foreign vocal- 
ist who had been seated with us, sprang to his feet, 
upsetting his chair as he did so, and fled with 
precipitation to the ladies' cabin, shouting as he 
went, at the top of his well-trained voice, " The 
boiler is bursted, we're all blown up ! The Lord 
have mercy on my soul !*' 

Before taking leave of a section of my life devoted 
almost entirely to wandering, and entering upon one 
of comparative quiet and seclusion, it may be well 
for me to answer a query which I feel sure has risen 
more than once in the reader's mind. "How did 
you manage to travel alone ?" 

In common with all boys in this country, I had 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 269 

rejoiced from early youth in stories of Indian and 
frontier life. "What especially delighted me were the 
records of practised senses, sleepless vigilance, alert 
comprehensive observation, resources equal to any- 
emergency, and in the midst of difficulty and peril, 
an unshaken self-reliance. Tales of the same pur- 
port floated from the desert of the Bedouin; I care- 
fully read all boohs within reach which told of strug- 
gles with privation and hardship, especially the lives 
of men who had suffered from blindness. Edgar A. 
Poe's wonderful stories produced a profound impres- 
sion on my boyish fancy ; not so much by their ghast- 
ly horrors as by their power of analysis. I therefore 
set to work to educate my senses, thinking that if 
an Arab, an Indian, or a half-savage backwoods- 
man, could bring his perceptions to such precision, 
keenness, and delicacy, why might not I ? It became 
a matter of pride to conceal my defective vision, to 
make up for the want of eyesight by the superior 
activity of the other faculties. The foot became 
almost as delicate as the hand, and the cheek well- 
nigh as sensitive to atmospheric impressions as the 
ear is to acoustic vibrations. By reason of the diffi- 
culties which encompassed it, travelling became an 
art, involving in its practice many elements of 
science. If I preserved the air and seeming of a man 
with two good eyes, my step had to be as cautious 
and well-considered as an Indian's on the war-path, 



270 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



and my dislike of being recognized by strangers, aa 
partially blind, was almost as great as his dread of 
detection by an enemy. Self-dependence delighted 
in obstacles. There was a pleasure in scouring 
strange regions alone, and although I have often 
had my face severely cut by thorny branches while 
riding through the woods, and was frequently ob- 
liged to hold my right hand in front of my face, 
the elbow extended to the right and the riding 
whip to the left, for hours together, as a protection 
to the upper part of the person; fatigue and wounds 
were alike accepted as a part of the salutary dis- 
cipline. Boarding a steamer in the middle of the 
river, after night, by means of a yawl, after having 
descended a steep, slippery bank, with no assistance 
but from a cane, gave me quiet satisfaction. To 
roam about a strange city, and make myself master 
of its sidewalks, gutters and crossings, and become 
familiar with all its localities, thus qualifying myself 
to become a guide to others, was a favorite pastime. 
There was hardly a large town of the country in which 
I did not know the shortest way between any two 
given points. Self-conceit was gratified when on 
being introduced to people who had heard of me, 
they exclaimed, " Why, I thought you could not see 
very well !" Mere walking was an intellectual exer- 
cise, and the mind found constant amusement in 
solving the physical problems which were ever da 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 271 

manding instant settlement ; as, for example, given the 
sound of a footfall, to find the nature and distance of 
the object from which it is reverberated ; or the space 
betwixt yourself and the gutter you are approaching ; 
or, amid the Babel of a crowded thoroughfare, to 
ascertain by your ear when it will be safe for you 
to cross, and how long a time the rush of hurrying 
vehicles will allow you. 

Many a man has found to his cost that necessity is a 
stern old pedagogue, intolerant of dullness and negli- 
gence, administering severe buffets to the slothful 
and the incorrigible. I bear about on my body many 
a mark of his heavy rod. My forehead still carries 
the trace of an iron pillar, standing at the corner of 
Gravier and St. Charles streets, in l^ew Orleans, 
which laid me senseless on the sidewalk, for stupidly 
rushing against it, to avoid being run over by a 
drunken driver, the first night I spent in the Crescent 
City. My nose carries the remembrance of a huge 
ladder which careless workmen had allowed to re- 
main standing over night across the pavement in St. 
Francis street, Mobile. An occasional twinge in my 
neck serves to remind me of a dive which I once 
made head foremost over an embankment into a 
trench ten feet deep, in Decatur street, Boston. I 
found it impossible to run away from my old precep- 
tor, and thus, while almost every part of my person 
bears tokens of nearly every section of our wide* 



272 TEX YEARS OF PREACHEK-LIFE J OB, 

spread country, an enumeration of which might 
almost form a chronicle of my journey, they serve to 
remind me that the one lesson which my school- 
master tried to teach me was, "Keep your wits 
about yon." 

I am sorry to confess, however, that I have sadly de- 
generated since the period which the narrative has 
now reached, namely, ilarch, 1SA3. TTife, children, 
and an increasing number of friends, have combined 
to render me less self-helpful, and I am afraid that I 
should cut a sorry figure enough if I were now turned 
out into the Rocky Mountains, or on the western 
prairies and forced to shift for myself. Loneliness is 
the condition of self-reliance. Society weakens the 
instincts and the senses. Love softens while it blesses. 
The eagle's eye and wing are not found in the dove- 
cot. Home enlarges the sphere of the sympathies, 
but limits the arena of self-trust. I have relinquished 
my pride about dependence, exchanged the delicacy 
of hand, foot, ear, and cheek, for the offices of those 
who love me, and move about the streets with scarce 
a pause to regret my privation, when my hand clasps 
the hand of either of my children, who are as watch- 
ful and tender toward me as if they were parent and 
I the child. 

Once I would have scorned as unworthy my man- 
hood any assistance in travelling unnecessary to a 
man complete in all his organs ; later years, while 



CHAPTERS FROM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 273 

relaxing this tension of tlie perceptive faculties, have 
shown me how full of genial sterling kindness is our 
human nature. I have rarely had occasion to appeal 
to a fellow-creature for aid without a prompt and 
hearty response. Only twice or three times have I 
ever been refused the help L asked, and only once 
have I been meanly imposed upon. A single day's 
journey in Ohio taught me more of such littleness 
than I had learned in all my life besides. It chanced 
that I reached Columbus from Cleveland, too late 
for the train for Cincinnati, so that I was obliged to 
lie over for several hours. At nine o'clock in the 
evening we left the door of ISTeil House in an omni- 
bus for the railway station. The fare was a shilling, 
and as I handed the conductor a quarter of a dollar 
I said, " I don't see very w r ell ; won't you be good 
enough to assist me from the stage to the cars." In 
returning the change, he gave me a five and a three 
cent piece and two pennies. I said, supposing it a 
mistake, " Do you know that you have only given 
me ten cents when I am entitled to twelve ?" 

" Look here," he replied, " I thought you said you 
could not see," forgetting that a man can tell money 
as well by his fingers as his eyes. After the other pas- 
sengers had entered the depot, I said to the worthy 
who was amusing himself by patting Juba upon hia 
knees : 

" Will you give me your arm to the train ?" 

12* 



27i 



TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIEE ; OE, 



" I'll be darn'd if I do," lie rejoined. " If you can 
tell a three cent piece from a five, yon can find yonr 
way to the cars." 

After some trouble, I succeeded in gaining a seat, 
and soon discovered that I had a crowd of gamblers 
for fellow-passengers, who amused themselves with 
poker, seven-up and brag, throughout the jour- 
ney. They partook largely of red-eye whisky, 
with which they were bountifully supplied, and a 
more profane, clamorous crew of blackguards I have 
never met. As the conductor passed through the 
train, I informed him of my condition, and asked if 
it would be convenient for him to assist me to a car- 
riage at the end of the journey. He was too much 
absorbed in the players and their cards to heed my 
request. Presently the agent for the omnibus line 
came along, selling tickets which would entitle the 
passengers to a ride from the depot to his hotel. I 
asked him if he could help me to the stage, he said 
he would see about it when we got to town. At four 
a.m., we reached Cincinnati. The passengers rushed 
from the train and I could discover no one to appeal 
to but a brakeman. He replied that he could not 
leave his brake, but calling a person whom I took to 
be an employee of the company, said, " Here's a 
chap what seems a little blind, just lead him to the 
buss." Taking the man's arm I gave him my car- 
pet-sack, and as we reached the door of the stage, I 



CHAPTERS FRO^I AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



275 



paused a moment, removing my hand from his arm 
to take out a piece of money to reward him, and said, 
" Here is a quarter for your trouble." There was no 
reply. " Where's the man that brought me here a 
moment ago ?" I inquired of the agent who stood by. 

" How the d do you suppose I know ! If you 

want to go to town, jump right in, we won't wait 
another minute for you, and don't be trying to come 
the d d blind humbug over us." This witty ob- 
servation was received with a shout of laughter by 
the stage full of passengers, and I had no resort, but 
minus my carpet-bag, to clamber to a standing-place 
inside, for not a man or woman offered to help me to 
a seat, and thus we rattled to the Burnet House. Do 
you wonder that I asked myself whether I had reach- 
Cincinnati or Pandemonium ? 

At another time, I was en route from New York 
to Charleston, and as we were approaching Balti- 
more, was engaged in conversation with a young 
man, who said that he was a merchant from one of 
the towns in Carolina. I informed him of my con- 
dition and suggested that as I was an experienced 
traveller, we might form an agreeable partnership for 
a day or two, by uniting his eyes with my knowledge 
of the world. He agreed rather coldly, but as we 
were obliged to hasten, in exchanging cars at Balti- 
more, he annulled the contract by running off precipi- 
tately, leaving me to pick myself up as best I might 



276 TEN YEARS OF PREACHEE-LIFE J OK, 

from a severe fall, received in j uniping for the platform. 
My wife and I interpreted differently the doctrine of 
total depravity, and whenever I indulged in couleur ch 
rose pictures of human nature, drawn from personal 
experience, she maintained that the loudness which I 
had invariably received was rendered not to human- 
ity, as such, but to a person of interesting and gentle- 
manly appearance. Both our theories seemed at fault 
for once ; I supposed that my young Carolinian was 
not guilty of brutish insensibility, but that he took 
me for a land shark that intended to devour him on 
the first occasion. I was so shocked by this, the first 
rebuff I had ever then experienced, that I could not 
bring myself to ask guidance of any of my other 
fellow-passengers, notwithstanding it was pitch dark 
when we reached the wharf at Washington, where 
lay the Potomac boat. The night was bitterly cold, 
there were no waiters at the pier, my comrades used 
great expedition in gaining the cabin, and I was soon 
left alone, to feel my way on board. As I went stag- 
gering along, I presently felt a strong hand laid upon 
my shoulder and a friendly Irish voice said : " Come, 
my darlint, what are you going 'to throw yourself 
into the dock for? I see how it is, you've been taking 
a dhrop too much, and you're not fit to be parading 
about alone. Come wid me, I've a carriage here, I'll 
drive you up to a hotel and have you put to bed, and 
in the morning you'll be all right." I thus found I 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 277 



had gained the side instead of the end of the pier, and 
a step or two farther would have given me a cold bath. 
I replied, "No my friend. I am not drunk, but I am 
nearly blind ; won't you give me your arm to the 
cabin of the boat. 55 " Bless your dear little soul," 
exclaimed the hearty fellow, in a voice tremulous 
with emotion, "is that what's the matter? what did 
them brutes leave you here by yourself for ? Give ye 
my arm, is it ? I'll take ye in my arms if it will suit 
ye better," and lifting rather than leading me, he 
soon deposited me in the bright warm cabin, as ten- 
derly as a mother would have placed her babe. 
" Look here," he almost shouted to one of the colored 
waiters : " Here's a gentleman that can't see ; if yo 
don't take the best of care of him ; when the boat 
comes back, I'll break your head, or my name is not 
Patrick O'Donahue." Extending my hand with a 
piece of money, I said : " I am much obliged to you, 
here is something for your trouble." " Something 
for my throuble, indade," he almost indignantly ex- 
claimed, " Divel a bit of it will I take ; do you're think 
I'd take money for helping a blind man? My old 
mother wouldn't spake to me, if she thought I would. 
God bless you, sir," he added, wringing my hand, 
" may the Yargin and Saints prasarve ye." I like to be- 
lieve that human nature is represented by the kindness 
of the Irish hackman, and that the Carolina merchant 
is a rare exception in his own or any other country. 



278 



TEN TEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OB, 



CHAPTER XIX. 

A SOUTHERN HOME — HARD STUDT— CHATHSTCET HOBART— * 
THOMAS CARLTLE. 

Shortly after my arrival in Montgomery, I was 
joined by my wife, with our little daughter Fanny; 
#. and our kind-hearted parishioners soon made us feel 
as much at home as if we had been born and bred in 
the " Sunny South." The Sunny South indeed I have 
ever found it, full of generous, noble people, inde- 
pendent in thought and speech, tolerant of the 
opinions of others, as they are bold in the avowal 
of their own. I went among them a Northern man 
and comparatively a stranger ; yet no questions were 
ever asked as to my views of "the peculiar institu 
tion," no pledges in regard to my conduct were either 
desired or given. I was taken at once to the homes 
and the hearts of the people, and during the six 
years of my sojourn in that land, I experienced 
nothing but kindness. Years have passed since I 
quitted it, not by my own wish, but sorely against my 
will, for Providence had said, Arise and go hence, for 
this is not thy rest ; yet my feelings instinctively turn 
toward Alabama as a home, and toward the Southern 
people as my kindred. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



279 



In due time we were established in the parsonage, 
which stood in the rear of the church, and frequently, 
during our residence in Montgomery, I did not quit 
the premises for weeks together. The opportunity to 
study, so long postponed, had at length arrived, and 
I seized it with a mixture of desperation and delight. 
I now look back upon those two years with a feeling 
something between wonder and fright. The average 
time bestowed upon my intellectual labor was eleven 
hours per diem, it sometimes went up to fifteen ; my 
wife has many a time read to me sixteen hours out 
of the twenty-four ; I recollect that we went through 
the first two volumes of Maeaulay's "England" at 
that rate. Nothing came amiss. Newspapers, re- 
views, history, voyages, travels, poetry, everything, 
but especially metaphysics. It was clear that I had 
been born to comprehend the incomprehensible. I 
greedily devoured the New York Tribune and the 
National Era, the Massachusetts "Quarterly" and 
the "Westminster," the "Essays of Emerson," "The 
Reports and Addresses of "Wendell Phillips," " The 
Lectures and Sermons of Theodore Parker." It was 
the era of revolution. The millions of Europe, 
roused by the tocsin of liberty, February, 1848, were 
demanding their rights of the trembling monarchs, 
and the mind of the world glowed with enthusiasm 
for freedom. While the peoples on the other side of 
the deep, waged valiant war for civil enfranchise* 



2S0 



TEK YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



ment, holding life cheap if only honor and indepen- 
dence could be won ; it was no less the duty of those 
on this side the world, to free themselves from the 
bondage of tradition ; to vindicate the claims of the 
present against the tyrannical despotism of the past ; 
and to assert the indefeasible claims of the supreme 
private soul. Patriotic armies were tearing to shreds 
the fictions of kingcraft, and jubilant nations were 
exulting in their new-found " Liberty, Equality, and 
Fraternity." The heroic Ego must also acquit itself 
of its sublime trust, and, flinging the superstitions of 
antiquity to the winds, established in the impregnable 
citadel of consciousness, owning no light but intuition, 
using no weapon but abstraction, must wage puissant 
and victorious war, unfurling the banner of ideal per- 
fection. Divine philosophy was the panacea for the 
wounds of humanity, and whoso would befriend his 
race must combine the lores of the East and of the 
West, must become the disciple at once of Confucius 
and of Schelling, and must, with open ear, attend to 
the utterances of all the oracles, between the Chinese 
seer and the German Professor. 

Zoroaster and Aristotle, Plato and Bruno, Thomas 
Aquinas and Duns Scotus, Des Cartes and Leibnitz, 
Kant and Fichte were honored as the greater lumi- 
naries of my firmament. I adopted Germany as my 
Fatherland, discarded cigars, smoked a meerschaum, 
talked learnedly about Goethe, and became a thor< 



CHAPTERS FROM AIT AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 281 



cngh Teuton in everything but lager-bier. I was 
disposed to believe that, excepting Shakspeare and 
one or two other writers who had been favorably 
noticed by the German critics, the English language 
contained very little worth a scholar's regard — some 
of my illustrious contemporaries, of course, being 
regarded as "present company" My reading in Ger- 
man theology began with Meander's " Life of Christ," 
and I was not long in reaching Strauss's " Life of 
Jesus." " Theodore, or the Skeptic's Conversion," by 
De "Wette, fell in my way, and I was not long in dis- 
covering his Introduction and Commentaries. Open- 
ness of mind is the divinest gift of the Oversoul, while 
universality of inquiry and catholicity of taste are 
the invariable attributes of the true critic and scholar. 
I read a great deal about High Art, and thought that 
I understood it. I undertook Lessing, and in fine, 
I became a transcendentalist of the supra-nebulous 
order. And yet I was a Methodist preacher, whose 
one business it was, or should have been, to teach the 
people righteousness. 

My many books, like Dante's one, made me lean. 
I restricted myself to a spare regimen. The intellect 
was to be regnant, the appetite to be controlled, and 
the spirit to become all in all. Eating was a vulgar 
necessity which had to be performed in common with 
the brutes ; therefore, the less of it the better, the true 
element for humanity was thought. The thinker was 



262 



TEX TEAKS OF PKEACHEK-LIFE ; OK, 



the one person of consequence in the universe : all else 
were but as chaff, which the wind might blow whither it 
listed. I was a philosophical critic — or, which amounts 
to the same thing, fancied myself one — in sympathy 
with the Age, armed with a vocabulary of high-sound- 
ing words, and fortified with the largest candor. " Is 
not Protestantism the emphasis of the private judg- 
ment? Let us then be Protestants and carry our 
work to a logical and legitimate extremity. Peverence 
for anything but myself is an absurdity. Sit calmly 
upon the Olympian summit of your individuality, 
and all the divinities, major and minor, will hail you 
as their peer. Obey the law of your being. Sin, 
what is it ? An incident which helps to higher per- 
fection." I was as severe, as my candor would per- 
mit, upon priestcraft and hollow symbols, and waxed 
awfully eloquent upon cant and shams, but I was 
particularly profound when I reached the regions of 
the subjective and objective, the a me," and the "not 
me," and no doubt Sir William Hamilton would have 
been charmed could he have listened to my subtle 
distinctions between the reason and the understand- 
ing. I possessed vast hermeneutical skill, and was 
able to distinguish with the most exquisite accuracy 
between those parts of the Hebrew and Christian 
scriptures which were authentic, and those which 
were supposititious. I could indicate to you with the 
greatest nicety those parts of the Pentateuch which 



CHAPTEES FEOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 283 

Moses had composed, and those which he had copied 
from elder historians and lawgivers. I had great 
respect for the poetry of David, Job, and Isaiah ; not- 
withstanding they might suffer somewhat by com- 
parison with the Iliad, the Sagas of the Norsemen, 
and the Yedas of the Hindoos. There was one fact 
however that always stood in my way — the person 
and work of the Redeemer of the TVorld. My 
powers of scientific analysis were never competent to 
dispose of that; true, I read Strauss and was fami- 
liar with the rules of exegetical criticism adopted by 
the Tubingen school, and I did venture to speculate 
somewhat upon the sacred and awful mystery, but I 
had to give it up. I suppose this must have been the 
result of weakness and superstition acquired from 
my mother and some of my other early friends ; 
they were very plain people and did not know a 
thousandth part as much as myself and some of my 
latei friends. Really, I fancy they must have been 
so ignorant as never to have heard of Baur and Zel- 
ler, and perhaps it went so far that they even did 
not know Goethe, that demi-god of the modern world. 
Yet I had seen them in the furnace of affliction heated 
seven times over, and there had walked with them 
one as it had been the Son of Man ; and they came 
forth without the smell of fire upon their garments. 
I saw that by a simple faith of the heart in their 
dying and risen Lord, their passions were schooled, 



2S1 



TEX YEAES OE PEEACHER-LIFE \ OK, 



their tempers softened, tlieir hope animated, so that 
they were like citizens of a better country— of a hea- 
venly rather than of this lower world. I knew that, 
to them, Jesus Christ was a merciful and faithful 
high-priest, and at the same time, the nearest, clearest 
and most intimate of friends. I had been educated 
from infancy to hallow His name — to revere, love, 
and worship Him. I had been taught to look upon 
Him as a Comforter full of grace, truth and tender- 
ness, from whom, and from whom alone, through the 
Father, I might receive mercy in time of need. 

Despite the spirit of free inquiry, I was held fast 
by the feelings of earlier years. Prayers learned 
when a child — views informed from the heart and 
vital with its blood, rather than those statuesque 
idioms of thought chiselled by the pure intellect — 
had become a part of me, and I could not en- 
tirelv free mvself from their authority. As I sat in 
mv studv, communing with my oracles, bracing mv- 
self with their utterance for the sharp contest with 
prejudice and puerile misconception, a burst of 
triumphant song from my negro congregation would, 
at least for a moment, disarm the metaphysician of 
his power and bring back the childish weakness of 
tears. I was keenly alive to the discrepancy between 
the profession and practice of Christians. I was 
pained by the apparent absence of high ethical char- 
acter, at once refined and stalwart, which one is justi- 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 285 

fied to expect in the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth. 
I was morbidly sensitive to the frailties and infirmi- 
ties of my brethren, and asked, if Christianity be in- 
deed the spiritual and divine power which it is said 
to be, why are not the lives and characters of its pro- 
fessors spiritual and divine? I demanded of the 
church an ideal perfection, and shrunk back from it 
because it presented me flesh and blood. I was out 
of sympathy with my people. It was painful for me 
to visit them or receive their visits ; they were in- 
terested in houses and lands, in buying, selling and 
getting gain, in betrothals and weddings, in christen- 
ings and funerals. They talked about the weather 
and crops, politics and the price of cotton, the size 
of the congregations that attended my ministry, and 
revivals of religion that were occurring in the con- 
ference. I was not interested in those things. I 
was clothed upon with Theological Methodology and 
encircled in the sinuous coil of the Mythical Theory. 
ISTone of my people cared for Spinoza or Berkeley ; 
how, then, could I care for my people ? They were 
hospitable and kind as they could be, doing every- 
thing possible to promote the comfort and happiness 
of myself and family, yet they were not baptized with 
my "baphometic fire-baptism." My aesthetic judg 
ment could not elect them my peers, and it was 
impossible that we should have lot and part to- 
gether. The kindred of the soul alone must be 



2S6 TEH TEAKS OF PKEACHEE-LIFE ; OR, 



recognized; the tongue and ear are each others 
complement. Most of what I spoke, my parishion- 
ers did not comprehend; most of what they said, 
I did not appreciate ; therefore it was clear that 
God had not made of one blood all nations to dwell 
together upon the earth. They were of pipe clay 
and I of alabaster. Sympathy with any but those of 
your own kind is of course impossible. I lived in a 
world of ethereal abstraction. They plodded in a 
region of sublunary cares and anxieties, where almost 
their only lights were the fires blazing on the house- 
hold hearth, and the lamp which glows upon the 
altar of religion. Our relations were antipodal, our 
planes infinitely removed. I claimed fellowship with 
Homer, Dante and Shakspeare, and became great 
by talking about their greatness. I studied books 
on architecture, painting and music, and dilated 
much upon aesthetics and the dynamic forces of the 
divine idea which reproduced themselves in the 
terrestrial forms of art. My poor' parishioners loved 
their wives and children, their neighbors and friends, 
horses and cattle with a hearty and homely love, 
and thus our spheres were wide apart as the 
planets. Alas ! alas ! for the blatant, the worse than 
Pharisaic egotism of transcendental shallowness and 
sophistry. All this while, I thought myself an ideal- 
ist, and folded the mantle of my superiority about 
me as I looked with ineffable indifference upun the 



CHAPTERS FEOM AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 287 

mundane cares and joys of society ; yet was I nothing 
better than a babbling fool, deluded with, self-conceit 
and intoxicated with weak tea, made by steeping the 
leaves of a so-called oecumenical philosophy in the 
liquid of a high-sounding and oracular vocabulary. 
One comfort grows out of this " Phase of Faith "(?) 
to wit : " the burnt child dreads the fire. 55 

"When my appointment to the Winchester Circuit 
was announced by Bishop Andrew in the autumn of 
1843, he at the same time read out the name of 
Chauncey Hob art, as preacher in charge of Jackson- 
ville, the town in which my father lived. 

I have before spoken of the stronger than Masonic 
bond uniting Methodist preachers, especially those 
living in the newer regions of the country, whose 
lives are exposed to privation and hardship. As I 
was accustomed to spend the few "rest days 55 which- 
each round of the circuit allowed me under my 
father 5 s roof, it is not to be wondered at that an 
affectionate intimacy quickly sprang up between 
Chauncey and myself, notwithstanding he was a 
dozen years my senior. Nearly all the waking hours 
of my visits at home, we spent together, and almost 
every month he would pass several days with me on 
my circuit, "taking a through, 55 as it was called, 
wherein we preached and exhorted time about. 

Chauncey was born in Yermont, but removed when 
a child, with his father, to the "Military Tract 55 lying 



288 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

between the Illinois and Mississippi Rivers, while this 
was yet almost an Indian country. Here he grew up 
a backwoods farmer, his only opportunity to get "a 
schooling " being an occasional " quarter" in the winter 
time. He was converted under the ministry of some 
of our pioneer preachers; joined the church, and 
soon became an itinerant. He was tall and large- 
limbed, with a noble head, fronted by a magnificent 
forehead, and a face beaming at once with intelli- 
gence and kindness. One day, finding his boots in a 
leaky condition, he stopped at the shop of a frontier 
cobbler to get them repaired. While the son of Cris- 
pin was at work with awl and hammer, another per- 
son entered, who gazing with fixed attention at the 
pedal extremities of my friend, exclaimed, with 
mingled astonishment and admiration : 

" "Well, I never ! Stranger, I resign in your favor." 

" I "beg your pardon," said the j?ro-tempore bootless 
divine ; " I don't comprehend you." 

"Howsomdever notwithstanding," replied the 
other, "I resign to you. Tou see, I have always 
been called President of the Track Sqpiety in these 
parts, because the people said my feet was as large as 
good-sized spades ; but I give in, for I swear I never 
see a man of such powerful understanding as you." 

I mention this incident to illustrate at once the 
genial temper of my friend, for no man could more 
keenly appreciate the joke, and the well developed 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 289 

size of his physique. Within the bounds of one of his 
first circuits was a little village, into which had re- 
cently removed some people of the better class from 
]STew England. As he walked forth once at eventide 
to meditate, on the edge of the settlement, his ear was 
caught by a concord of sweet sounds, borne upon the 
breeze. He stopped to listen, and exclaimed with 
rapture : " Was ever such a set of sheep-bells heard !" 
He was listening to a pianoforte for the first time. 
A genuine child of the woods, he was truly a great 
man. Quick of observation, with a judgment calm 
and trustworthy ; a courage characterized no less by 
modesty than intrepidity, a disposition frank and 
fearless, as it was generous, and a soul that felt the 
things invisible and eternal as if they had been 
tangible and palpable. He was one of the noblest 
men I have ever known. He had wrought faithfully, 
exercising the gift that was in him to approve him- 
self a workman that needed not to be ashamed. By 
dint of indefatigable industry, he had gained not a 
little knowledge from books, which was seasoned to 
use by common sense and experience. All that he 
had was at the service of his friends, especially at 
mine, for I became to him as a son in the Gospel. 
He has ever loved the frontier, where the work 
was hardest, while the fare and pay are poorest. 
With gifts and graces that would render him eminent 
in a metropolitan pulpit, he has chosen to forego 

13 



290 YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE j OR, 

ease and wealth and fame, that lie might be among 
the foremost to preach the glad tidings in the cabins 
of the wilderness. There was nothing morose or 
gloomy in his piety, for he was ever the most cheer- 
ful of companions ; having learned, in whatever situa- 
tion he was, therewith to be content. He was 
healthful in mind and body, and his soul was buoy- 
ant as a lark. It would have made all the blood in 
your body tingle to hear him shout, " Glory to God 
for the hope of everlasting life." The judgment-seat 
of Christ, Heaven and Hell, were not to him 
metaphors or myths; but awful realities, in whose 
light he walked by day and night. Self-depreciation 
was almost the only fault I ever detected in him. 
But his trust in the living God was invincible, and 
he seemed to enjoy the full assurance of faith. He 
was a thorough Methodist ; and surely John "Wesley 
never had a more worthy disciple. He believed the 
doctrines and obeyed the discipline of the church, 
from love of them. He revered the memory of the 
founder, honored his institutions, and fulfilled the 
duties of his place with unquestioning submission. 
His zeal was unquenchable ; and his one hope was, 
that he might have souls for his hire, and at last hear 
the Master say, "Well done, good and faithful ser- 
vant." 

Such was the man who blessed the early years of 
my ministerial life with his confidence and affec* 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 291 

tion; and never did David love Jonathan more 
warmly than I loved Ohauncey Hobart. David owed 
Jonathan less, and I feel pretty sure that he was 
my " guide, philosopher, and friend. 5 ' From him I 
received the first satisfactory instruction in the art 
of preaching ; and I often said to him that if I ever 
became a preacher I would give him the credit due 
to his unfailing kindness. I sketch my friend not 
only as a grateful duty, thus recording some of the 
virtues of a man to whom I am under weighty and 
profound obligations, but as a representative of the 
best class of Methodist preachers, many of whom it 
has been my happiness to call friends. "When I state, 
therefore, that I have been reared under the influences 
of such men, nurtured in their views, and habituated 
for years to an implicit acceptance of their doctrinal 
opinions, it can easily be seen from the first part of 
this chapter how far I had wandered from the ]5kths 
x of my youth. 

Ah ! Thomas Carlyle, you have much to answer 
for, in sending adrift upon the fog banks, such raw 
and inexperienced boys as I was when your mighty 
genius found me out. Many a day of miserable 
doubt, and night of morbid wretchedness have you 
caused me. Yet for all that, I owe you more and 
love you better than any author of the time. " Sar- 
tor Eesartus 79 first fell in my way while I was living 
. in Washington, and I much question if Christopher 



292 



TEX YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE J OE, 



Columbus was more transported by the discovery of 
America, than I was hi entering the new realm which 
this book opened to me. Everything was novel, huge, 
grotesque, or sublime; I must have read it twenty 
times over until I had it all by heart. It became a 
sort of touch-stone with me. If a man had read 
Sartor and enjoyed it, I was his friend; if not, we 
were strangers. I was almost as absurd as a Ken- 
tucky girl, of whom it is stated, that on a gentle- 
man's introduction to her, her first observation inva- 
riably was, "Have you read Moore's Melodies?" I 
had not been long in Montgomery before I had read 
every word that Mr. Carlyle had ever published. I 
was as familiar with the everlasting is" ay, the Centre 
of Indifference, and the everlasting Tea, as with the 
side walk in front of my house. From Herr Teufels- 
droeckh I took the Teutonic fever, which came nigh 
costing me so dear. It became incumbent on me to 
read what he had read, to admire what he admired, 
to scout what he scouted ; I was a hero worshipper of 
the most approved sort, and hated cant and Sir Jabez 
"Windbag with due intensity. "What a witches' dance 
* I had of it through those years ; the wizards and 
Brocken never had a wilder. Mr. Carlyle's books 
had much the same power over me, that Mephisto- 
philes exercised over Faust — I at least might have 
chanted the chorus to the ignis-fatuus : 



CHATTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 293 

"The limits of the sphere of dream, 

The bounds of true and false are past ; 
Lead me on thou wandering gleam, 

Lead me onward far and fast, 
To the wide, the desert waste. 
But see how swift advance and shift 
Trees behind trees, row by row — 
How cliff, by cliff, rocks bend and lift 
Their frowning foreheads as we go, 
The giant-snouted crags — ho ; ho ; 
How they snort, and how they blow." 

Scarcely less appropriate, as descriptive of the tumul- 
tuous state of my mind and its commotion, which 
almost threatened at times to end in hallucination, 
would be the description of the tempest, in Faust. 

" A cloud thickens the night, 

Hark ! how the tempest crashes through the forest; 
The owls fly out in strange affright, 

The columns of the evergreen palaces 
Are split and shattered. 
The roots creak and stretch and groan, 
And ruinously overthrown; 
The trunks are crushed and shattered 
By the fierce blast's unconquerable stress. 
Over each other crack and crash they all 
In terrible and intertangled fall, 
And through the ruins of the shaken mountain 

The airs hiss and howl — 
It is not the voice of the fountain, 

Nor the wolf in his midnight prowl. 



294: TEN YEARS OF PBEACHER-LIFE J OK, 



Dost thou not hear ? 

Strange accents are ringing 
Aloft, afar, anear; 

The witches are singing ! 
The torrents of a raging wizard's song 
Streams the whole mountain along." 

A remarkable goblin crew, was that to which my 
new guide had introduced me. This is not the place 
to attempt a critical estimate of the genius of Mr. 
Carlyle ; yet I could not forbear to mention one who 
had so much to do with my life and character. 
Tears have passed since he led me forth to the dance 
of ghosts, and I have learned to read him with a less 
feverish enthusiasm, but I believe with a more gen- 
uine appreciation of his rare and extraordinary 
powers. He did me harm, but he has helped me to far 
more good. With all his defects, to me he stands 
first among the men of this generation. Honor, long 
life, health and peace to thee, Thomas Carlyle, is the 
message which a friend wafts from beyond the sea. 

About a year and a half after my removal to 
Montgomery, it happened that I was invited to attend 
the funeral of a prominent citizen. A discourse was 
to be delivered by one of my brother ministers, whose 
name I had often heard, but with whom I had no ac- 
quaintance. He belonged to the Methodist Protestant 
Church, between which and our own, there was little 
or no intercourse. Besides performing the duties as 



chapters feom ak autobiography. 295 

pastor of a small congregation, lie was the principal 
of a large female school. I had heard it incidentally 
said that he was a man of considerable cleverness, 
and withal of a poetical temperament. Nothing, 
however, that I had heard concerning him had ex- 
cited the slightest interest, or awakened the desire to 
form his acquaintance. I therefore entered the 
church to attend the funeral service with no feeling 
save that of sympathy for the bereaved family. The 
minister announced his text and in a rather tremu- 
lous manner proceeded with his introduction. The 
language was accurate, the style chaste, the thought 
striking and profound. Borrowed ! said I to myself, 
and no credit given ; but he will find his own level 
presently. The critic sat intrenched in his indif- 
ference, awaiting -the catastrophe which must termi- 
nate this Icarian flight. But the catastrophe did not 
come, and the critic was driven out of his strong 
position, and admiring wonder soon gave place to 
tears and a heart suffused with the glow of a religious 
emotion such as had not been experienced for many 
a month. As I left the church, I felt that I had 
never listened to so wonderful a preacher, and I think 
so still, after having heard most of the renowned pul- 
pit orators in England and America. It was as if, 
upon the copious diction, the calm, elevated philoso- 
phic thought of Charming, had been ingrafted the 
vital energy and evangelical fervor of John Wesley. 



296 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



Yet it is hard to say wherein his special power lies ; 
there is such a harmonious blending of gifts and 
grace. Allowance must be made for a bad voice, the 
result of a diseased throat; and for a self-distrust 
which, amounts to the shrinking timidity of a girl. 
His strength is in the tongue, for he speaks incom- 
parably better than he writes — the magnetism of a 
listener is essential to his full inspiration. His intel- 
lect is athletic as it is subtile, delicate as it is strong. 
But for me the charm of the man lay in his genuine, 
unaffected piety, his rich experience of the deep 
things of God. In him reverence was profound as 
the source of life, yet without the slightest shadow 
of superstition. Faith seemed to have wrought its 
highest results in his character, and to have become 
the evidence of things not seen, the substance of 
things hoped for. His love toward God and man 
showed itself in unfaltering obedience to the divine 
law, and in a tender regard for his fellow-beings, 
w r hich took all the shapes of compassion, forbearance, 
toleration, courtesy, sympathy, benignity, as personal 
relations required. But I am anticipating, for I did 
not come to all this knowledge of the man at once. 
After the discourse in question, I inquired of a num- 
ber of persons if this was his usual style of preach- 
ing ; for, notwithstanding that my doubts as to the 
genuineness of the production had been laid, my sur- 
prise could not but vent itself in an occasional 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 297 

query. I was answered that lie always preached as 
well, and usually better. Thereupon I fell into a 
great disgust toward the people of Montgomery ; for 
they did not appear to have discovered that they 
had one of the greatest living preachers among 
them. As I lay weltering in my chaos, it looked 
as if God had sent an angel to succor me. I there- 
fore went to him at once, and said, " If thy heart is 
as my heart, give me thy hand." From that time 
until I quitted Montgomery, a part of almost every 
day was spent in his society. Such was the com- 
mencement of my acquaintance with Andrew A. 
Lipscomb, whose influence over me, together with 
that of Chauncey Hob art and Thomas Carlyle, forms 
the most significant and important chapter of my 
mental history during these ten years. 

In Mr. Lipscomb there was not only a singular 
union of the old and of the new, the learning of the 
schools and the simplicity of the Gospel, but also of me- 
taphysical acumen with spiritual insight. He seemed 
to breathe the atmosphere of prayer, and yet walked 
upon the firm ground of reason. His religion was de- 
vout, but without an accent of cant. His sensibilities 
stood him in the stead of a powerful imagination, 
enabling him to reproduce most perfectly my morbid 
consciousness, and thus did he minister to a mind 
diseased. I was fond of quoting, "Do the duty that 
is nearest thee ; thy next duty will become plainer!' 1 

13* 



298 



TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-EIFE J OR, 



But that nearest dutv, alas, which is it? To reach 

*j * / 

truth, of course. But truth, what is it ? and where ? 
At the bottom of the well ? I had very nearly broken 
my neck and got drowned besides, seeking it there. 
No. Truth is in your home, among: vour neighbors 
and in the fellowship of the church ; and clear views 
of it can be acquired more easily and wisely by 
carrying the heart into practical life, than by stretch- 
ing the neck and straining the eyes in gazing at the 
milky way, or at its reflection in a mud-puddle. 
Eat more, sleep more, and take tea with your 
parishioners; romp with the children, talk to the 
negroes, and believe that a man should read to live, 
not live to read. Go fishing, visit the sick, and be- 
come heartily interested in the poor and ignorant. 
Get the material for your sermons out of the lives of 
the people, rather than from speculations of the 
sages. Bead John Bunyan for his English, and the 
Bible not only for its English, but because the en- 
trance of " that "Word oiveth light : it oiveth under- 
standing to the simple.' 5 Cultivate the charities and 
sympathies of common life ; apply yourself to the 
rhetoric of the market-place ; be able to discuss the 
making of bread and darning of stockings with the 
good housewife, and relish that discussion too. 
Above all, as thou hast known the Scriptures from a 
child, cultivate a deep and reverent confidence in its 
holy teachings. "Remember the instructions of thy 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 299 

father and forsake not the law of thy mother," whose 
godly counsels nourish the highest instincts of our 
being ; — 

" Those first affections, 
Those shadowy recollections, 
"Which, be they what they may, 
Are yet the fountain light of all our day, 
Are yet a master light of all our seeing ; 

Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make 
Our noisy year3 seem moments in the being 
Of the eternal Silence : truths that wake, 
To perish never ; 
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor, 

Nor Man, nor Boy, 
Nor all that is at enmity with joy, 
Can utterly abolish or destroy!" 

It is a difficult thing for the proud intellect, confi- 
dent of its own resources, to appreciate the meaning 
of that prayer of our Saviour's, " I thank thee, O 
Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast 
hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast 
revealed them unto babes. Even so, Father; for so 
it seemed good in thy sight." l^or is it easy for oracu- 
lar self-conceit, to credit that He prescribed the one 
great condition of Christian discipleship when he 
took a little child and set him in the midst of his 
followers, and said : " Whosoever will not receive the 
kingdom of Heaven as a little child shall not enter 
therein." My passage through Eationalism was not 



300 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



easily or quickly accomplished. Two years after 
this date, I was arraigned before the Alabama Con- 
ference on complaint of heresy, but with no acri- 
monious or harsh intent. And I here must be allowed 
to bear witness to the uniform consideration and 
kindness which were extended to me by my brethren 
in the ministry. They treated me on the principle 
that time and experience would work the nest cure, 
and I trust they have had no cause to regret their 
leniency. I have heard somewhere in the rural dis- 
tricts the following prescription for inyalids: "Let 
the patient go to the c bars 3 at milking time and 
stand so close to the cows that they can breathe in 
his face." I cannot tell how this may operate in 
chronic disorders of the body, but I know that a 
hearty interest in homely things and a genuine love 
of the common people are the best cure for neology, 
the chief element of which I take to be egotism, and 
the sublimest manifestation of which is doubtless 
somewhat dependent on dyspepsia, neuralgia, or the 
liver complaint. When the diagnosis of doubt is 
fully set forth, I fancy that physiology will have as 
much to do with it as psychology. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 301 



CHAPTEE XX. 

ON THE ROAD AGAIN* 

It must not be supposed that because I had 
taken to hard study, or addicted myself to meta- 
physics, I had altogether abandoned the road. Dur- 
ing my six years' residence in Alabama, I was 
accustomed to spend a good part of the summer 
and fall of every other year in extensive journeys 
through the State, generally preaching once or twice 
a day. The monotony of student life was thus re- 
lieved, and I had the fullest opportunity to become 
acquainted with the life and habits of the Southern 
people. I was once riding from Tuscaloosa to Greens- 
borough, a day's journey, forty miles ; the only pas- 
senger for the first two hours was a little music teacher 
from down East, who spent most of his time on the 
box with the driver. As I lay extended on the front 
seat, enjoying the fumes of my cigar, my head lean- 
ing out of one window and my feet protruding from 
the other, the stage suddenly stopped in front of a 
plantation gate, and I found that we were to have 
another passenger, whose air and tone bespoke him a 



302 



Tm YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



mail of the world. His good byes to friends were 
soon said, and as he mounted with some difficulty to 
his place, I discovered that he had the gout; he 
waved adieu, and the stage rolled off, but not until I 
had caught the words, "God bless you, Sam!" 
Every gentleman in the South is supposed to smoke, 
so pulling out my case, I offered him a cigar. He 
lit, the conversation commenced, and as a matter 
of course, politics was the first subject broached. 
He was a lawyer, had been an editor, and I was 
not long in ascertaining his identity. He was a New 
England man, born and bred, but had resided many 
years in the South. He had a brother in the Senate 
of the United States, who was as noted for his free- 
soil opinions, as my new companion was decided in 
his aversion to them. From politics we turned to 
books, then to men, and so on to matters and things 
in general. In due time, the hamper of good things 
with which I was provided was produced, and break- 
ing bread together, we became confidential. 

" I suppose," he said, " you're a brother of mine — 
a sprig of the law ?" 

" Not at all," I replied, indisposed to surrender my 
personality so easily. 

" An editor, then ?" 

" No." 

" What ! is it possible that you give people calomel 
and jalap, and cut off arms and legs?" 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 303 



" "No indeed ; I am not such a barbarian." 

" You are not a planter ?" 

"No." 

" In heaven's name then, wbat are you ?" 

" Nothing much," I replied, " but a poor scholar." 

Just tben we stopped at the half-way house m 
Havanna ; slapping me on the knee, he said with 
great bonhomie: 

" Whatever else you are, you're a thundering good 
fellow. There's a juicery here; let us get out and 
wet pur whistles with some bald-faced whisky." 

I declined his polite invitation, and he drank alone. 
We chatted along pleasantly through the afternoon, 
and he favored me with his views upon the deleteri- 
ous influences of Puritanism, based upon his own 
experience of the tendency to reaction from early 
rigid restraint. He denounced Calvinism fiercely, 
and said that it was chargeable to a large extent for 
the infidelity and ultraism of his native land, and 
added that he had only found refuge from deism 
and atheism, in the teachings of Emanuel Sweden- 
borg. The Swedish seer, it seemed, had been making 
not a few proselytes among the members of the 
bar upon his circuit. After he had descanted at 
length on the true Christian religion, in a style more 
emphatic than proper, for the leaven of mystical 
contemplation had not succeeded in purging his con- 
versation from an occasional oath, I observed that I 



304 TEX YEAHS OF PREACHEB-LIFE \ OR, 



had read a number of the books of Swedenborg and 
of his principal disciples. 

" What the dickens haven't yon read, I shonld like 
to know f 5 he interrupted. 

"But," I continued, "it is hardly to be expected 
that I should become a " receiver, 55 and at the same 
time remain a Methodist preacher. 55 

"A Methodist preacher! 55 he shouted. "'You! 
If I had been out with a rifle to shoot parsons, I 
should never have pulled trigger at you.* 5 Then, 
recollecting himself, he said, "Is it possible that I 

have the pleasure of travelling with Mr. P* 

and pronounced my name. 

I assured him that I was the person mentioned. 

" What a fool I am !' 3 he continued ; " I might have 
known it, if I had the sense I was born with. I heard 
that you were coming down this road, and so laid 
over two days at the house of a Mend, to avoid you. 
I don't like parsons as a general thing, but I confess 
that I am fairly caught, and moreover, I am not sorry 
for it. 55 

He then apologized for swearing, saying that it 
was such a habit in his part of the country, that men 
were scarce conscious of it, unless they found them- 
selves in the presence of women or of ministers. Bv 
this time we had reached our journey's end, and 
parted ; but I have no recollection of a pleasanter 
stage ride than that. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 305 



At another time I was on my way from Mont- 
gomery to Tuscaloosa, a distance of one hundred and 
thirty or forty miles. We had ridden eighteen hours, 
and stopped at the town of Marion to dine. A num- 
ber of the passengers left the stage at this place, and 
their seats were taken by others ; among these were a 
gentleman and two ladies, who, of course, occupied 
the back seat. As I was immediately opposite, on 
the front seat, the elder of the ladies commenced a 
conversation with me. I was a stranger to every 
one of the party, and it must be premised that a 
leather cap, linen overcoat, a figure completely cov- 
ered with dust (for the season was very dry), and 
withal an exceedingly youthful appearance, did not 
render my presence very imposing. 

"Travelling, sir?' 3 she began in a voice which at 
once revealed to me her In ew England origin. 

" Yes, madam, as far as Tuscaloosa." 

" Ah, I see ; on your way to college. 33 

" No. 33 

" What ! you are not going to take a course, then ?" 

" 1 left college some time since. 33 

" You've been to college ?' 3 

" Yes, madam.' 3 

"What one ? 33 

" Illinois College. 33 

" Ah, I guess that don 3 t amount to much. Where 
do you live, sir ? 33 



306 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



" I can scarce be said to live anywhere ; but 1 
have been spending some time in Montgomery." 

" All, in Montgomery — do yon know the Eev. Mr, 
Milburn of that place ?" 

"Yes, ma'am, I have some acquaintance with 
him," I replied, with entire self-possession. 

"I've had a great desire to hear him preach," 
she continued. "My husband, niece and myself 
stopped in Montgomery last Saturday, but unfortu- 
nately I was taken very ill in the night at the 
hotel, and was so sick all the next day, that none 
of us could get out to church. We were very much 
disappointed." - 

" I don't think you missed much." 

" What do you mean, sir ?" she said, rather 
tartly. 

" Only that I heard him preach twice on Sunday, 
and I didn't think much of the sermons." 

" You didn't think much of the sermons." she re- 
plied, with a sneer. " I think it perfectly disgusting to 
hear the young men of the present age talk about 
ministers ; that's the regular cant ; nothing is ^elo- 
quent or great enough for our would-be smart young 
men. If an angel from heaven were to come down 
and preach, I suppose you would criticise him. 
Your mother ought to have taught you better, 
sir, than to speak slightingly of eminent divines ; 
I'd have done it, if I had been your mother. Birch 



CHAPTERS FROM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



807 



oil- -birch oil, sir, is the thing that's* wanted in the 
education of these times." 

B Keally, ma'am," I replied, with great humility ; 
" I had no notion of disparaging Mr. Milburn, or of 
hinting the slightest disrespect toward the Christian 
ministry." 

" Oh, no ; of course yon hadn't." 

After a moment she resumed, " I suppose you 
mean to study law ?" 

" ls T o." 

" Medicine ?" 
"Is T o." 

" Ah, you're going to be a planter and not a pro- 
fessional man ?" 

" I am a sort of a professional man now." 

" You a professional man — I should like to know 
what profession you belong to ?" 

" I am a preacher, ma'am." 

" A preacher !" she exclaimed, with unfeigned sur- 
prise, " do you belong to any church 2" 
"Yes." 

"To what church?" 
"To the Methodist." 

" Oh, I beg your pardon," she said ; " I thought from 
your appearance you must be one of the Corneouters* 
"We are just from Boston, where we've been visiting 
our friends, and they've a dreadful lot of people there 
that wear long hair, and look very frowzy, and aro 



308 TEX YEAIiS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 



called Comeouters. I don't know where they came 
from, but I can gness where they're going to. I 
thought yon must be one of them," then bethinking 
herself, she repeated. "To the Methodist church? 
I see how it is. Young man," she proceeded, with 
great solemnity, "envy and jealousy are the mean- 
est passions that rankle in the human bosom, and I 
am afraid that nothing is more common than for 
young ministers to have such feelings toward their 
elders and their betters. Let me warn you against 
indulging that, for it looks to me very much as if 
you had such feelings toward the gentleman of whom 
we have been speaking. You are just beginning 
life — get rid of them or they will ruin you." 

" I am very much obliged to you for your good 
advice, but really I am not aware that I am the vic- 
tim of these bad passions, and Mr. Milburn is the 
last man in the world, of whom I would be jealous 01 
envious." 

" You may think so ; but oh ! the heart is deceitful 
and desperately wicked." She then went on in a 
more cheerful tone, " May I take the liberty of ask- 
ing your name ?" 

" Certainly, madam ; my name is Milburn." 

" Ah !" she said, " any relation to the gentleman 
of whom we have been speaking ?" ■ . 

"To tell you the truth, I am not aware that there 
is any other person of that name in Montgomery." 



CHAPTERS FROM AJN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 309 

"Are yon the pastor of a Methodist church 
there?" 

" I am ; and yon must allow me to thank you for 
the manner in which you have defended me from my- 
self." Soon after, we reached Greensborough, where 
we went our several ways, and I saw them no more. 

Early in the month of July, 1852, I was again on 
my way to Tuscaloosa, but this time from Mobile. 
I had stopped at various places to preach, and had 
become not a little exhausted by reason of the labor 
and the excessive heat. Nevertheless, as I had ap- 
pointments for every day in the next four months, 
extending through a wide region of country, it was 
necessary to push on without regard to weakness. I 
had quitted the house of a friend in the canebrake 
early one morning, hoping to reach Greensborough, 
forty miles off, by night. My conveyance was a one- 
horse buggy; the driver a kind-hearted old negro. 
By eleven o'clock I found myself growing faint, and 
requested Uncle Sam to stop at the first house, that I 
might rest. A gate was soon reached, and lifting me 
from the carriage, Sam supported me to the door, in 
which stood a damsel, to whom I said, " May I have 
leave to rest here a little while ? I don't feel very 
well." Perhaps my pallid, ghostly appearance scared 
her, for without a word she pointed to a room on the 
right, and then fled with precipitation 

Sam had hardly laid me upon the ..^t&rien 



310 TEST YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

into a deep swoon, from which I did not recover for 
an hour. As consciousness began to revive, I found 
the kind-hearted negro sedulously engaged in rub- 
bing and fanning me. 

" Can't you get something to strengthen me, Sam ?" 
I feebly said. 

"Kb, massa," he replied; "dey got nothin but 
whisky; and dere nothin but trash, poor, mean 
white folks; dey won't come a-near you, nor do a 
hand's turn for you, 'cause dey think you got de 
cholera, and dey catch it. Never mind, massa," he 
said in a cheery way, " I kin nuss you ;" then adding 
with the finest scorn, " dey's nothin but nasty piney 
woods people, nohow." 

His untiring exertions, together with a bucket of 
cool water which he brought from the well, restored 
me so far that in another hour I was ready for the 
road. 

As we drove away, the indignant old fellow ex- 
claimed : " I hope de Lord will strike dat house wid 
lightning, and kill all dem people's geese and 
chickens. Dey don't own no colored people, so dey 
ain't nobody." 

We had not proceeded more than ten miles, when 
I again felt the need of rest, and desired him to draw 
rein at the first house. We entered a plantation, 
and stopped before the porch of a house, where an 
ola\v (item man was seated. I stated my case to him. 



CHAPTEES FRO^kl AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 311 

but had hardly clone so, when he said in a most 
cordial manner : " Come in, come- in, my dear sir, 
the house and all that it contains are at your ser- 
vice." 

Sam helped me to the drawing-room, where I was 
no sooner placed upon the sofa, than I sank into 
another deep swoon. "When I awoke and could look 
about me, it was so dark that I thought it must be 
night. The day had been brilliantly beautiful, scarce 
a cloud could be seen, except along the southwestern 
horizon, where piles of white vapor seemed reposing. 
But within an hour these had risen and overspread 
the firmament, and gave dark and threatening token 
of elemental war. I tottered to the porch to gaze 
at the coming storm, the air was close and sultry, an 
awful stillness reigned, broken only by ti low, 
distant sigh, heard ever and anon, or a terrified 
bellow from the frightened cattle. Presently an 
alarming spectacle made its appearance in the 
sky, coming from south of west. It was a black, 
pear-shaped cloud, with its stem toward the earth, 
surcharged with lightning, thunder and tem- 
pest. Now it looked like an out-spread umbrella, 
with its handle near the ground, its bending top a 
sheet of vivid flame, ribbed with zig-zag flashes. 
Then it became compact, and resembled an inverted 
cone, and soon after it seemed a funnel through which 
the contents of some fearful caldron were pouring. 



312 TEN YEAES OF PEEACHEE-LIFE ; OK, 



LigJitnings of all colors streamed from it and in 
every direction, straight and zig-zag toward heaven 
and earth, and in transverse lines toward every 
point of the compass ; the thunder, loud as a thousand 
pieces of artillery, seemed one prolonged concussion ; 
but even over this din rose the roar of the wind. 
The rain fell in foaming sheets, and its white floods, 
all fire-wreathed, lent a spectral horror to the sepul- 
chral gloom. Fortunately, our house was on the 
remotest verge of the tornado, which had here com- 
pressed itself within narrow limits, and swept along 
with astounding velocity, finding the fruitful bounty 
and joyous verdure of summer, but leaving desolation 
and ruin. My energies were prostrate, my nerves 
unstrung; and I believe that, overpowered by the 
electrical state of the air, I experienced, for the first 
time, physical terror in all its intensity. I crept to the 
door of one of the family rooms and tapped. It was 
opened by a matronly woman, who said in the- 
gentlest tone: 

" What will you have P 

" I am alarmed, may I come and sit with you ?" 

She took my hand, led me to a seat, and with the 
kindest assiduity sought to soothe my apprehensions 
and quiet my fears. She laid aside her own alarm that 
she might minister to a helpless and suffering stranger. 

In another hour the sky was almost clear of clouds, 
and the sinking sun threw his farewell beams up 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN ATTTOBIOGEAPHY. 313 



the vault of heaven, which never seemed more 
beautifully blue. All around the east 

" Shone the million colored bow, 
The sphere fire above its soft colors wove, 
While the moist earth was laughing below." 

As twilight was deepening into darkness, I entered 
the gate and bade my driver stop at the foot of a hill, 
on whose top, not many yards distant, stood the house 
of one of my Greensborough friends. The delicious 
coolness and balmy air of evening had invigorated 
me, and I was disposed to terminate this rather try- 
ing day with a little sport. It was too dark for per- 
sons in the house to recognize one at any distance, so 
putting my hand to my mouth to disguise the voice* 
I shouted, " Halloo the house." 

" "What do you want ?" 

" Some supper and a bed.' 5 

" Go to the hotel and get them." 

" I had rather stay here." 

" But we don't keep tavern." 

" I can't help that, you'll have to keep me." 

"Leave my yard at once," shouted my friend, 
fairly excited. 

" Keyer a bit of it," I replied, and began to get 
out of the buggy. By this time, the entire house- 
hold had collected at the front door, and lights had 
been brought, so that my movements were dis- 

14 



314 TEN TEARS OF PEE ACHE R-LIEE ; OK, 

covered. My friend, the Doctor, was a man of small 
stature, but high-spirited and bold as a lion. 

"What do you mean, sir?" he cried, as he came 
bounding down the hill. " Leave these premises 
instantly, or I'll put you out, neck and heels." 

"Doctor! Doctor!" shouted his wife, hardly able 
to speak for laughing (for woman's more delicate ear 
had detected the voice, notwithstanding its disguise) 
" Don't you know who it is ? It is Brother 

I need hardly say I was not kicked out. Warm 
hearts and good cheer and the long talk about Eu- 
rope, whither my friend had been since we last met, 
made a bright and happy night after a day of weak- 
ness and suffering. God bless thee, and all that are 
dear to thee, my noble hearted friend, Doctor Tom 
Webb. 

In the morning I was up with the lark, and went 
on my way rejoicing, nor did I miss one of my ap- 
pointments during the next four months. 



CHAPTERS AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 315 



CHAPTER XXI. 

SOUTHERN CHARACTER. 

According to the law of the Methodist Church, a 
preacher can only remain two years in charge of one 
society. At the expiration of my time in Mont- 
gomery, I was transferred to Mobile and appointed 
to the St. Francis street Church. That pleasant 
little city, by the by, was my home for four years. 
When my time in St. Francis street expired, the 
bishop made me city missionary, in which capacity 
it would have been possible for me to remain per- 
manently ; and I suppose that Mobile would then have 
been my home and my grave. It came near being 
the latter ; but the former, it was not destined to be* 

We bought a cottage on the edge of the town, and 
with about half an acre of ground, embarked in that 
most hazardous of all undertakings, making improve- 
ments. We laid out a garden and planted the differ- 
ent kinds of vegetables and flowers, but somehow or 
other they would not grow satisfactorily. Having a 
cow, we built a two-story stable, containing, besides a 
carriage house and stalls for several horses and cow?, 



316 TEN YEAKS OF PREACHEK-LIEE ; OK, 

a loft for hay, corn, oats, etc., a neat room for ser- 
vants. In one of my visits to the country, a friend, 
thinking that I needed exercise, presented me with 
a valuable saddle horse. By the way, I must 
here indulge in an episode illustrating a curious 
superstition of southwestern steamboat-men. In my 
endeavor to transport my quadruped to Mobile, I 
spent three days on a river bank, hailing every boat 
that passed, and desiring them to receive my steed and 
myself on board as passengers, but in vain. The cap- 
tains all knew me, and would have been glad to serve 
me, but not at such a fearful risk of fire, explosion, col- 
lision, or snagging, as would have been involved in 
carrying a parson and a grey mare. They would 
take either separately, but not both ; and after a num- 
ber of fruitless attempts to keep together, we were 
obliged to divide, I going by one boat, leaving her to 
follow by the next. 

A saddle horse is an expensive comfort in the city, 
and my wife averred that mine would eat her own 
head off in six months, that the idea of a Methodist 
preacher, on a narrow stipend, keeping a horse for an 
occasional ride, was preposterous and not to be tole- 
rated. The wife of one of our neighbors had been 
delighting herself in a little speculation, to wit, driv- 
ing a dray; that is to say, having a horse and a 
negro man, neither of whom had anything to do, she 
purchased a dray and set the man to driving it 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 317 

Glowing accounts of the profitable returns from this 
investment fired my wife's imagination, and we bought 
a dray ; but neither of us could drive, nor were any of 
our children large enough to do so. "We therefore did 
what was considered the next best thing — hired an 
Irishman. The Irish have one peculiarity, there- is no- 
thing they cannot do. My horse was a saddle-beast, 
and had never been broken to harness, but our man 
declared that he could break her just as easy as roll- 
ing off a log, that he had broken horses all his life. I 
do not believe that he had ever anything to do with a 
horse before. As I never had a knack for business, my 
wife agreed to engineer this project. The driver was 
to get twenty-five dollars a month and be found, the 
horse food was to be paid for, the cost of the dray 
and harness to be replaced in the family fund, and 
then all the profits were to inure to my spouse as 
pin money; but, alas, the profits never came, the 
horse stalled with her first load, which Patrick was 
to take seven miles, and for which he was to re- 
ceive four dollars and a half. He worried the poor 
beast so much, and beat her so cruelly, that she was 
never fit for harness afterward. "When we retired 
from the transportation and forwarding business, 
drays were not in demand ; we did not even succeed 
in forcing a sale, and the vehicle stood in the yard 
until the sun and the rain took it to pieces. 

About this time the chicken fever was prevailing 



318 TEX YEAE8 OF PEEACHEE-LTFE ; OE, 



as an epidemic. Of course we took it. My brother 
who was the first member of the family attacked by 
this disease, presented my wife with a pair of Shang- 
hais, costing ten dollars. The possession of so remark- 
able a pair of fowls awakened in us a lively interest 
toward this branch of natural history. TVe obtained 
the various books which treated of it, and became 
exceeding learned in chicken lore. "We added to 
onr improvements, by the erection of a spacious 
hen-house, and by fencing a handsome inciosure for 
the benefit of the broods we were going to have. 
We did not mean to eat the monster birds, but de- 
sired to raise them for sale, that we might thereby 
turn an honest penny. But Shanghais soon became 
very common, and although our first pair had multi- 
plied exceedingly, there was no demand for the 
article. Still our ardor was not cooled. VTe at- 
tended a chicken fair, and were ravished by the 
incredibly long legs appertaining to a magnificent pair 
of feathered bipeds, styled "Brama Pootras," for 
which the modest price of fifty dollars was asked. 
The chief trait of these remarkable birds, so far as I 
have been able to discover, was that they could stand 
on the floor and eat corn from a table, and enough 
of it in the course of a day to supply a good sized 
family with bread for the same length of time. 
Several of our neighbors told us that if we would 
buy the fowls, they would each take a dozen eggs, at 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 319 



the rate of twelve dollars a dozen. "What a stroke 
of fortune ; the goose that laid the golden egg had 
come to us at last. The Brama Pootras were ours. 
But where were they to he kept? Although the 
hen-house was padlocked at night ; cunning thieves, 
used to robbing hen-roosts, could easily remove that 
obstacle. "We were oppressed with all the weight of 
care which newly-found riches are wont to bring;. 
After much deliberation, it was decided to give them 
the carriage-house, and it was a matter of no little 
moment to see them safely bestowed every evening 
and released in the morning. But when would the 
hen begin to lay? It became a subject of serious 
speculation to the neighborhood. Her aristocratic 
cackle was waited for with impatience. Friends 
inquired, day after day, if the important event had 
yet taken place ; we were obliged to answer as 
cheerfully as we could, that it had not, then we 
moralized about " haste making waste," "Rome not 
being built in a day," etc., winding up by counselling 
patience. At length the cackle, so long waited for, was 
heard, and the entire family, white and black, old and 
young;, hurried to look for the ego;, and discovered to 
our horror that the barbarous chanticleer had with his 
beak pecked the precious deposit of his dame, and 
that the white and yolk were oozing from the frac- 
tured shell. I never heard that that hen laid another 
egg. Our fears that the hen-house might prove an 



320 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

unsafe asylum, were justified ere long, for one stormy 
night the door, was forced, and of fifty Shanghais, 
not one was left. "We began at once to recover from 
this attack of chicken fever, and our convalescence 
was soon pronounced complete. This disease is said 
to resemble the yellow fever in one respect — the 
patient never has it a second time ; if he succeeds in 
living through it, he is supposed to be stronger for it 
ever after. 

Since the failure of the dray and chicken business, 
we have not embarked in any mercantile operations. 

In the matter of society, Mobile could safely challenge 
comparison with any city of the Union. Upon the 
Creole or native population had been ingrafted favor- 
able specimens from almost every State in the Union, 
and from the principal nations of Europe. The circle 
was large enough to afford the richest variety, but not 
so large as to destroy unity. The leaven of -the early 
French element had not ceased to work, but showed 
itself in the exquisite courtesy of the people's man- 
ners. Every city of the Republic has a topograph- 
ical and no less a social physiognomy of its own. In 
Boston the test question as to a man is, What does 
he know ? In New York, How much is he worth ? 
In Philadelphia, Who are his relations ? In Balti- 
more, Has he a good digestion? In Washington, 
How many votes can he command ? In Charleston, 
Who was his grandfather ? In Cincinnati, How man? 



CHAPTERS FKOM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 321 

hogs does he kill ? In Chicago, How many " corner 
lots" does he own ? In St. Louis, Has he an interest 
in the Fur Company? In New Orleans, south of 
Canal street, How much cotten does he sell ? North 
of Canal street, How does he dance and dress ? In 
Mobile, Is he a man of good manners ? 

Throughout the South, whether in city or country, 
there is an attention paid to the proprieties and cour- 
tesies of life, which I have failed to observe in some 
other parts of the Union — a reverence for age, 
deference to childhood, a polite regard for equals, a 
kind tone to the poor, treatment of the negro as if 
he were one of the family, and a truly ehivalric bear- 
ing toward women. I believe that it is a universal 
practice there for a man to uncover when saluting a 
lady — not simply to raise the hat- from the head, but 
to let it fall as- low as the knee, while she passes. 
Mr. Thackeray pays a deserved tribute to the men 
of our country, in his lecture on " Charity and 
Humor." "I will tell you when I have been put in 
mind of two of the finest gentlemen books bring us 
any mention of — I mean our books (not books of 
history, but books of humor). I will tell you when I 
have been put in mind of the courteous gallantry of 
the noble knight, Sir Roger de Coverley, of Coverley 
Manor, of the noble Hidalgo Don Quixote of La 
Mancha — here, in your own omnibus-carriages and 
railway cars, when I have seen a woman step in, 

14* 



322 TEN YEAE8 OF PEE AC H ER-LIFE J OS, 

handsome or not, well-dressed or not, and a workman 
in hob-nailed shoes, or a dandy in the height of the 
fashion, rise up and. give her his place. I think, Mr. 
Spectator, with his short face, if he had seen such a 
deed of courtesy, would have smiled a sweet smile to 
the doer of that gentleman-like action, and have made 
him a low bow from under his great periwig, and have 
gone home and written a pretty paper about him. 
I am sure Dick Steele would have hailed him, 
were he dandy or mechanic, and asked him to share a 
bottle, or perhaps half a dozen." But nowhere have 
I seen the homage to woman, thus fitly commemo- 
rated, so fervent, refined, complete, as in the Southern 
States. Many a time, in that land, have I listened 
with wondering delight, as when under the spell of 
music, to the tones of a man's voice as he conversed 
with a lady. There was no trick of conventional 
affability, no conscious and voluntary deference put 
on for the occasion, no cockney lisp or stammer, 
or mannerism of honeyed condescension ; but the 
thing signified by the symbol of an obeisance, 
wherein self-respect maintains its noblest attitude, 
by bending lowly in presence of something more 
beautiful and sacred. Manhood shows no symptom 
of reaction from the education of the fireside, and 
the reverent loyalty toward "mother," combined 
with a cherishing affection for sisters, is carried forth 
into society. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



323 



It is rare to hear a fine voice in the North. There 
must be a quality in the atmosphere which we 
breathe, to brace and stiffen the muscles of the 
throat, and to narrow the orifice of the mouth, so that 
a part of our vocal tone is obliged to escape through 
the nose. The unventiiated state of our lungs, and 
the imperfect development of the chest, so dis- 
mally manifest in the prevalence of pulmonary dis- 
eases, conspire to bereave us of much that is sweetest 
and most beautiful in that finest organ of humanity, 
the voice. But it is not so in the full throat, the deep 
chest, of the South, where the lungs do not fear to 
welcome the profound inspiration of a genial, balmy 
ether. In the North, people seem to be fearful 
that the respectability of their position is not assured ; 
and that they must therefore guard it, in chilly isola- 
tion, by a stiff reserve. 

Our educated men, lured by the prospect of gain 
and distinction, are centralized in the great cities ; 
while money is used for investment in stocks, for the 
purchase, in fashionable neighborhoods, of stately 
houses with brown stone fronts, and for maintaining 
a style of extravagant civic outlay. " Going to the 
country," for the most part, means the stay of a few 
weeks at a fashionable watering-place, where the rou- 
tine and excitement of conventional life are aggra- 
vated. Over-work is charactered in lines of care on 
the face of almost every intellectual man you meet, 



324 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE | OR, 



and over-dressed is equally legible in the costly rasfc 
lino 1 costumes of the women. Meii of fortune rarelv 

O W 

seem desirous to become owners of laro-e landed 
estates except for the purpose of speculation : they 
rarely hunt, and are as seldom good riders. Rural 
life has few charms for our educated women ; social 
life is so badly organized that the present race of 
wives and mothers must expend their energies and 
achieve martyrdom in attempting to train raw Irish 
peasants to become serviceable domestics. And if 
they would fain reside among orchards and mea- 
dows, the chances are that they must perform their 
own household drudgery, at least a portion of the 
time, and be prepared for it on any emergency. 
Tew of the sons of our farmers who acquire an 
education beyond what the common school affords, 
become farmers themselves, and few of the daugh- 
ters of our wealthy and educated classes, but would 
think it beneath them to marry a farmer. The 
city, and the life of the city, have absorbing power 
and irresistible charm. The American citizen is apt 
to have no leisure, but leisure is necessary to society. 
North of the Potomac we have few country gentle- 
men, and yet country gentlemen and their families 
must ever constitute the nucleus of the best society. 

It is not to be wondered at that there is an increas- 
ing attrition between those parts of our country 
styled Northern and Southern, for their directions 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 325 

and the types of their civilization are widely and 
growingly different; climate, the style of employ- 
ment, the mode of life, the forms of society, the ideals 
of character are producing their definite and inevit- 
able results. 

If a Southern man makes a fortune by trade or in a 
profession, he at once invests in a plantation ; if he 
reside in a city, it is an episode to afford the oppor- 
tunity of good schools to his young children, or that 
he may attend to some pressing business; but his home 
and his heart are in the country, his estate is his pride, 
and in any event, several months of the year are sure 
to be passed there. Every gentleman keeps open 
house. In the coldest weather it is hardly allowable 
to close the front door, because it seems inhospitable. 
Friends in any number at a time, and even well- 
behaved strangers, are always welcome. The planter 
is an early riser, and his round of duties is usually 
completed by ten or eleven o'clock ; thus he has the 
remainder of the day for literature and society. His 
first visit is to the hospital of the quarter, to care and 
prescribe for the sick ; next to the nursery that he may 
look after the children, who are in charge of the old 
maumas ; then to the fields, where the people' are at 
work, or in the fall of the year to the gin-house, 
where the cotton is being cleaned and baled. He 
has labor enough to discipline his mind and exercise 
his body ; imparting to both a manly energy and easj 



326 



TEN YEARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE J OK, 



grace. He lives much in the society of women ; thus 
his ways are softened and refined, and as the desire to 
be agreeable to those with whom they live, is an 
instinct with women ; their constant and intimate 
association with husband, father, brothers, incites 
them to the study of graver topics, with an interest in 
higher themes than is customary in our crowded and 
hard-driven society. 

It must not be supposed that the life of the mistress 
of a plantation is passed upon a bed of roses. Let 
me sketch one of these matrons, and she shall stand as 
a representative of her class ; higher, it is true, than 
the average, but by no means a head and shoulders 
above them all. 

Imagine a handsome and spacious mansion crown- 
ing a mound which lifts itself gently from a broad, al- 
luvial plain. From the observatory on the roof, you 
may catch an occasional glimpse of the Black Warrior 
River on the east, and of the Tombigbee on the west, 
as their silvery currents shimmer through the funereal 
groves of cypress or fantastic groups of cotton-wood 
which line their banks. Belts of timber girdle the 
plain at intervals, marking the course of meandering 
creeks, while the landscape gains additional interest 
from the variety of orchards, fields of corn and cot- 
ton, and the long row of whitewashed cottages form- 
ing the village of the quarter, nestled under the leafy 
covert of the trees. That village is inhabited by 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 327 



several hundred negroes, big and little, all of whom 
look up to the mistress of this mansion as to a mother. 
She has a large family of boys and girls, whom she 
is rearing in the fear and love of God. She super- 
intends the entire education of her daughters, and 
that of her sons as well, until they are prepared to 
enter college. The clothes for her people, as well as 
for her family, are all cut and made under her eye. 
Each negro on the place has, besides his patch of 
land for vegetables, a piece in which he can cultivate 
corn and cotton for himself, in his own time, for "Wed- 
nesday and Saturday, from 12 sr., are a holiday on 
every well ordered plantation. When the cotton is 
ginned and weighed, each person receives from the 
overseer a slip of paper, on which is written the 
quantity he has produced ; this is carried to the mis- 
tress, who keeps a book in which each one is credited 
with his or her share. ,When the cotton is sold, the 
people receive their due in money or in such articles 
as they may have ordered, for the mistress attends to 
the purchases for them as carefully as for her own 
household. As colored people are very fond of bar- 
ter, differences of opinion frequently arise, which, as 
among the more highly civilized portions of man- 
kind, are apt to lead to wrangling and disputes. She 
has therefore caused the village to be erected into a 
municipal corporation, herself acting as recorder 01 
as chief justice of the high court of errors. An elec- 



o'2S TEX YEARS OF PEE ACHEE-LIFE ; OE, 

tion for sheriff, tlie only officer cliosen by popular 
suffrage, is held once in six months. TThen a radical 
and irreconcilable difference of opinion arises be- 
tween any two praties concerning their "perdjuce," 
poultry, or other rights and belongings, this magis- 
trate is at once apprised; he then informs the mis 
tress, who, causing the parties to be brought face to 
face in her presence, seeks to act as referee. If. how- 
ever, the matter cannot thus be adjusted, the law of 
the commonwealth requires that the case shall pro- 
ceed to trial. The sheriff summons a panel of six 
jurors, to whom the oath is administered that they 
will deal fairly and truly, without bias or prejudice. 
The chief justice is on the bench : plaintiff and de- 
fendant appear and have right of counsel ; witnesses 
are examined, arguments are heard, the case summed 
up. the charge given, and the cause is submitted to 
the six men good and true ; their decision is final. 
On Sunday, if there be no preacher at hand, she has 
religious service in the quarter, reading, then explain- 
ing and catechising, and joining devoutly with them 
in their hymns and prayers. 

Thus it used to be at Eose AEount ; but. alas ! the 
people will look up to that mistress no more. I have 
never known a woman on whose tombstone the wise 
mams description could be more fitly graven : 

"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above 
rubies. 



CHAPTERS FEOM AX AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



329 



M The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he 
shall have no need of spoil. 

14 She will do him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. 

14 She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her 
hands. 

14 She is like the merchant ships ; she briDgeth her food from afar. 

" She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her house- 
hold, and a portion to her maidens. 

14 She considereth a field and buyeth it : with the fruit of her hands 
she planteth a vineyard. 

"She girdeth her loins with strength, and sirengtheneth her 
arms. 

" She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth 
not out by night. 

"She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the 
distaff. 

44 She stretcheth out her hands to the poor ; yea, she reacheth forth 
her hands to the needy. 

u She is not afraid of the snow for her household ; for all her 
household are clothed with scarlet. 

"She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk 
and purple. 

" Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the 
elders of the land. 

M She maketh fine linen and selleth it, and delivereth girdles unto 
the merchant. 

"Strength and honor are her clothing ; and she shall rejoice in 
time to come. 

" She openeth her mouth with wisdom ; and in her tongue is the 
law of kindness. 

" She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not 
the bread of idleness. 

" Her children rise up and call har blessed ; her husband, also, and 
he praiseth her. 



330 TEST YEARS OF PEEACZER-LIFE ; OR, 

" Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them 
all." - 

I may be allowed to sketch another Southern 
■woman, the wife, not of a planter, but of a professional 
man. She is a person with the fine Grecian contour 
of whose head and face, and with whose stately figure 
you never associate the idea of age, but she must be 
approaching the forties. Her countenance, I should 
say, had never been beautiful, but it is more, for there 
reigns in it the expression of calm, benignant wisdom. 
There is nothing of studied elegance in her mien or 
of statuesque hauteur which often passes for repose 
of manner, but an indefinable blending of gracicfus 
kindness and simple dignity, which at once insures 
your confidence and awakens your reverence. She 
does not overawe you by her learning, although she 
has enough to qualify her for a professor's chair, nor 
fascinate you by her conversation, albeit few people 
talk as well ; she is a finished woman of the world, 
and yet lives in a region high above the artifices of 
mere conventional life. In the longest acquaintance 
with her, you never hear her tongue debased to 
scandal or gossip, of which the well-bred are often as 
fond as the vulgar ; yet is she mistress of all the 
lighter parts of conversation as well as of the graver. 
She never flatters you save with that most subtle and 
exquisite of all compliments, the interested and 
appreciative listening to your discourse, which in 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 331 



spires you to talk better with her than anywhere else. 
Servants, children and all simple folk revere and 
delight in her, while the wise and great find in her a 
companion fit for the fellowship of their selectest 
hours ; yet she is not what is styled universally popu- 
lar, for she has no magnetism with which to attract 
the frivolous, false and foolish. She is not a blue 
stocking, for there lives not a more thorough house- 
keeper or a more admirable cook. Her taste in dress 
is faultless, and she possesses an artist's eye for the 
harmony of colors. Plato, Bacon and Shakspeare 
are her handbooks, but she is not above darning 
stockings, teaching her negroes to read and write, 
and in an intimacy of years, I never saw her in other 
than an immaculate costume. With her I began the 
reading of Grote's " History of Greece," as the succes- 
sive volumes made their appearance in England, and 
I am sure that Mr. Grote has never had a more 
appreciative reader on either side of the Atlantic. 
It was she that introduced me to Comte's " Positive 
Philosophy," while as yet it was almost unknown 
either in Great Britain or America (a capital prescrip- 
tion by the way for my then transcendental tenclen 
cies). Her reading has been wide, but more select 
than various, and she has studied more than read. 
"With an intellect in which creative and reflective 
powers are singularly united to administrative 
faculty, her highest praise is that she is every inch 



332 TEX YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 



a woman. On occasion, slie could sail a ship, handle an 
army, or administer the affairs of the state or treasury 
departments, vet she is the ideal of a wife, mistress 
and friend. She will probably go down to the grave 
known only to that private circle, the measure of 
whose reverent love for her is gauged by the know- 
ledge of her character and their own capacity to 
esteem the highest worth and loveliness ; but if the 
juncture demanded, no woman of whom history tells 
us has played a nobler part than she is competent 
to do. 

Sext to the Bible, Shakspeare is more read in the 
South than any other book, and old books are usually 
preferred to new ones. The mind of the educated 
classes is occupied by affairs rather than by the pro- 
duction of literature. An instinct for politics, and a 
vivid interest in concerns of State, are well-nio-h uni- 
versal. Every gentleman is accustomed to adminis- 
tration, and the management of *his plantation almost 
implies the capacity of a statesman. It is a national 
calamity, as well as a misfortune to personal charac- 
ter, in both ends of the Republic, that a question of 
such magnitude as that of American slaverv should so 
far degenerate as to have become mere matter of 
partisan politics, a foot-ball for demagogues, a fertile 
field grown up in weeds, producing an exuberant an- 
nual harvest of paradoxes and platitudes, a theme the 
discussion of which involves acrid disputes and vitu- 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 333 

perative personal controversies. To deal with the fact, 
as justice demands it should be dealt with, requires 
candor, mutual forbearance, patience, courage, broad 
intelligence, and an enlightened Christian conscience ; 
not the mind of a fanatic, or the temper of a desper- 
ado. All the men south of Mason's and Dixon's line 
are not thieves and robbers, any more than all north 
of it are fools and bigots. This is the one subject 
upon which Southern people are often unduly sensi- 
tive, compromising self-respect by inviting the views 
of strangers, or making a difference of opinion a per- 
sonal affair. True, I have seen them display this weak- 
ness rather when in the free States than at home. I con- 
fess that I perceive no reason why people should not 
discuss the question of slavery as good-naturedly and 
reasonably as any other, and when this is introduced, 
if a man fly into a passion, or fall into a style of rail- 
ing accusation, the conclusion is inevitable, that his 
cause is a bad one, or else that he is incompetent to 
deal with it. The people of the South have been 
grievously denounced, then* conduct and character 
aspersed with the falsest and foulest of calumnies. 
I have myself read and heard hundreds of public 
statements concerning persons and events where I 
had been a witness of the transaction, or was ac- 
quainted with the parties, and perceived that either 
credulous ignorance or the spirit of gross perversion 
must have fathered such stories; more than this, 1 



33i 



TEN TEAE8 OF PEEACHEE-LIFE ; OE, 



have known many a case where men and women 
entered Southern homes as guests, or staved in them 
through the courtesy of the owners, receiving a 
bountiful hospitality and the most generous treat- 
ment, and yet have repaid all this by malevolent mis- 
representations and slanderous falsehoods ; neverthe- 
less, I have to say, after a rather large acquaintance 
with men and manners in the South, that I never heard 
an uncivil word spoken to a stranger, whether in public 
conveyances or in private relations, and that I have 
never witnessed an act or look of rude suspicion or 
impertinent curiosity touching a man's views of the 
peculiar institution. On the contrary, if you bear 
about with you the tokens of a gentleman, I think you 
will agree with me that there is no country where a 
larger liberty of thought and expression is not 
only tolerated in the conversation of society, but 
solicited, and where the most decisive individuality 
is sacred from the attacks of inquisitorial impu- 
dence. 

A tranquil self-respect, secure in the consciousness 
of its position, leisure attending upon labor that is 
not drudgery, and upon energies that are disciplined, 
not overwrought ; an appreciative love of the best 
books, and a large experience of life ; courtesy, not 
the result of conventional arrangements, but the out- 
growth of a genial nature; an instinct educated 
within the hallowed circuit of the household, rever- 



CH AFTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 335 

ence for age, deference for woman and a full liquid 
voice are the constituents of the best society, such 
as is frequently found in the Southern States. All 
who have enjoyed its advantages and who have been 
capable of appreciating its excellence have borne 
delighted testimony to its wondrous magnetism, its 
unrivalled charm. 

The first man who took me by the hand in Ala- 
bama, was Phillip P. Neeiy, as generous and noble- 
hearted a Methodist preacher as breathes. How well 
I remember our first dinner under the hospitable 
roof of our dear old Major Byland ; then there was 
Duke Goodman, with the soul of a prince and the 
guileless heart of a child ; the refined and urbane 
James Sanders, the frank and genial Price "Wil- 
liams, and Col. Baker, who never heard a tale of 
distress but that his eyes overflowed with tears, 
and his hand gave more dollars than his eyes 
drops, with a host of others in Mobile who came to 
welcome me as unknown, and yet well known. 
When I went up the country, there was Colonel Joe 
Hutchinson, with a nature open and benign as the 
day, ever thenceforth my true yoke-fellow; the 
accomplished and scholarly Judge Ormond ; Governor 
Collier, the consistent and upright ; the jocund, stead- 
fast Col. Garrit ; the courtly and polished Wm. 
Henry Taylor; my neighbor Lewis Owen, unfail- 
ing in attentions, and unostentatious in his liberal 



336 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

providence ; the impulsive and magnanimous Tom 
Brothers, Clayton C. Gillespie and Tom Foster, who 
became to me almost as sons in the Gospel ; and best 
loved of all, my venerable friend, my second father, 
L. Q. C. de Yampert, whose house, heart, purse were 
always open to me. These and a thousand more 
from whom I received deeds $nd words of loving 
kindness were preachers or members of the church. 
"When I turn from them to recall the names and 
forms of those, who though not bound to me by the 
ties of church-fellowship, nevertheless gave me confi- 
dence, cheer and love, and treated me as if I had 
been bone of their bone and flesh of their flesh, when 
I look back upon the six years of my residence in 
Alabama and remember how I received good and 
not evil at the hands of the people of Mobile, Mont- 
gomery and indeed the entire State, through all those 
days ; I feel a new thrill as I read the words of the 
Psalmist, and believe that I understand them better 
than before : " If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let" my 
right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remem- 
ber thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my 
mouth." 

"What man with a soul in him can wonder that ] 
cherish the recollection of my life in the South, or 
that I love and honor the people there 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 337 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE NEGRO. 

Every stationed Methodist preacher in the South 
lias the cure not only of the whites, but also of the 
colored people, and there are usually more of the lat- 
ter in his parish than of the former. The galleries 
of the church are filled with negroes Sunday 
morning and evening, but the preacher is also 
expected to superintend the religious service sacred 
to themselves in the afternoon ; preaching to them 
as often as his strength will allow, and administer- 
ing the sacraments once a month. They have an 
official meeting of their own, composed of preachers, 
exhorters, stewards and leaders, for the transaction 
of their own business, of which he is the chairman, 
one of their own number acting as secretary. He 
sits as the presiding judge of their church trials, and 
if his character be such as to warrant the confidence, 
he is usually the umpire to whom is referred not 
only the minor difficulties of the church members, 
but of the colored people at large. He marries, bap- 
tizes and buries them ; visits them in their houses, 

15 



TEX YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OB, 



comforts theni in their distresses, prays with them 
when on beds of sickness ; is their counsellor, friend 
and spiritual guide. Singularly trustful and simple- 
hearted, for the most part, they admit him to their 
most sacred confidence. From him, they hare 
scarce a secret. Few men, therefore, know the negro 
so well as the Methodist preacher, and no men are 
to-day exercising so powerful an influence over negro 
character in the South as the preachers of the Metho- 
dist and Baptist denominations. It cannot be denied 
that these are the only bodies of Christians that are 
doing much in that most important and desirable of 
ail mission fields — the slave population of our south- 
ern States. Here and there, especially in the neigh- 
borhood of cities, you may see a colored Presbyterian 
or Episcopal church, but from Delaware to Texas, 
from Florida to Missouri, there is scarce a plantation 
which is not visited by a Baptist or Methodist 
missionary, and hardly a negro that does not hear 
the word of life from their lips. Of course I know 
more of the operations of my own, than of any other 
church, and shall therefore confine my remarks to it. 

"Whatever men may think or say as to the political, 
legal, constitutional, social, domestic or personal 
aspects of slavery, there can be no two opinions 
among those who profess and call themselves 
Christians, as to the duty of preaching the Gospel to 
the slave, and bringing him within the pale of the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 



339 



church. I am proud to say that Methodism has felt 
this claim from the beginning, and accepting this as 
its special field, and working with unwearied energy, 
has gathered therein its most precious harvest. 
From the sickly rice fields and deadly soil of the 
sea-island cotton on the coast of the Carolinas and 
Georgia, to the swamps of the Red and Ouachita 
rivers, over which malaria hangs as a canopy ; along 
the banks of the Rio Grande and the Trinity ; on 
the sugar estates of the Attakapas, and the cotton 
plantations of the Mississippi; wherever a negro 
quarter rises, and the people are toiling in furrow, 
brake or forest ; there you will find my brethren, 
regardless of privation, hardship, cold, heat, hunger, 
pestilence and death ; preaching the unsearchable 
riches of Christ, and in His name praying men to be 
reconciled to God. Our venerable bishops and 
runior preachers, editors and presiding elders, men 
of all ranks, ages and grades of culture, vie with each 
other in this, who shall be first and most efficient in 
planting the cross of Christ in the hearts of the 
children of Ethiopia. The saintly service is adorned 
with the names of such men as Capers, Andrew, 
Paine, Pierce and Early among the bishops; Wight- 
man, Summers, McFerrin, Myers, McTyeire and 
Rosser among the editors ; Keener, Jefferson Hamil- 
ton, Drake, Winans, Lovick Pierce, Crumley and 
Walker among the presiding elders. Through the 



3i0 TEN YEARS 07 PEE ACRES-LIFE \ OR, 

devout and self-denying labors of these men and 
their fellows, hundreds of thousands cf the sons of 
Ham have been tinned from darkness to light — from 
the power of Satan unto God. and to-day have their 
faces Zionward; while myriads, ceasing at once to 
work and live, have died in sure hope of the inherit- 
ance which is incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
fadeth not away. All lienor, say L to these servants 
of the blaster, who though poor are yet making many 
rich, and who esteem the reproach of Christ greater 
riches than the treasures of Egypt. They are in 
their dutv, be out of it who ma v." 

You cannot live among the negroes without loving 
them : there is something so genuine, gentle and 
docile in their character. They overflow with sensi- 
bility, and refined feeling seems to be an instinct 
with them. They are the tenderest and most faithful 
nurses in the world, and they possess a knack for 
the management of children. There is something 
exquisite in an old ••mauma's" manner of handling a 
babe. A Highlander was never more loyal to the 
head of his clan, than a family servant to a good 
master. The French have not a greater genius for 
cookery than the negroes. 

Music seems their native element. I do not 
remember ever to have seen a negro that was not a 
sweet singer. In orbing can be finer than to hear a 
congregation two or three thousand of them ; as at 



CHAPTERS FEOM AN" AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 341 

a camp-meeting, with one heart and voice they pour 
forth in plaintive or triumphant strains of their own 
composition, hymns of praise to God. ISTever did the 
Girondists chant the Marseillaise with greater fervor 
than I have heard them sing the following : 

" Jesus, my all, to heaven is gone, 

And we shall gain the victory ; 
He whom I fix my hopes upon, 

And we shall gain the victory ; 
His track I see, and I'll pursue 
The narrow way, till him I view ; 

And we shall gain the victory ! 
March on, march on, and we shall gain the victory ; 

March on, and we shall gain the day." 

Tears would come to the eyes as I listened to the 
plaintive sweetness of the music set to these simple 
words : 

" There's a rest for the weary, there's a rest for the weary, 
There's a rest for the weary, where they rest forevermore ; 

M In the fair fields of Eden, in the fair fields of Eden, 
In the fair fields of Eden we'll rest forevermore. 

" I've a Saviour over yonder, I've a Saviour over yonder, 
In the fair fields of Eden we'll rest forevermore." 

Or the following : 

" Oh, brethren, will you meet me, oh, brethren, will you meet me, 
Where sorrows never come ?" 

But the " Old Ship of Zion" is their greatest favorite: 



342 



TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR. 



" What ship is this that will take us all home ? 

Glory! hallelujah! 
'Tis the old ship of Zion, oh, glory ! hallelujah! 
But are you sure she will be able to take us all home ? 

Yes, glory ! hallelujah ! 

s 

She's landed many a thousand, and she'll land as many more ; 
King Jesus is the captain ! oh, glory ! hallelujah!" 

The unction with, which the words, "King Jesus," 
are pronounced thrills you like an electric shock — for 
it is as a monarch, they most love to think of Him. 
Great tears are rolling down every sable cheek, while 
every eye is lit with joy, and you feel the sincerity 
of their rapturous shouts, " Oh, glory, hallelujah !" 

I must be allowed to give some account of one of 
our dear old brethren, whom I shall call Uncle Na- 
than. He was a consistent and godly member of one 
of my societies, and being a good judge of human 
nature, chose my wife for his confidante. He was a 
venerable man, with a tall, erect figure, a dignified 
presence, a pleasing expression of countenance, his 
head crowned with hair white as wool. He com- 
pletely won my wife's confidence and regard, and 
they were frequently closeted, discussing at length 
the matters which interested him. She ascertained 
from some quarter — not from himself, for he had 
never whispered it — that he was supplying two 
worthless scapegraces, sons of his former master, 
with money, which they spent in riotous living. She 
therefore admonished him on this point, saying : 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 343 

" Uncle Nathan, you have a wife and a large 
family dependent upon your exertions. Tou are 
wronging them by giving your hard-earned money 
to these wicked young men. It is only helping them 
in their evil courses." 

" But, missis, they are the sons of my old master !" 

" I can't help that, ]STathan ; it is wrong for you 
thus to squander your money. They are more able 
to work than you are, and you must leave them to 
themselves." 

" Well, missis, if I must I must ; so I'll tell you 
how it is. Tou see, my old master and me was mar- 
ried about the same time, and our first children was 
born purty near together ; for my Sally and young 
master Jack is about of an age. My old master and 
me happened to be out in the field together just 
about that time, and he says to me, ' Nathan, we was 
children and boys together, and growed up side by 
side. Do you love me, Nathan V He was always a 
good master to me, missis, and I always did love him, 
and so I told him yes. Then says he, 6 Nathan, I 
want to make a compack with you. Tour free 
papers, and your wife's, is lying in my drawer ; they 
were made out the day your child was born, and 
you can have them whenever you please. Now, 
Nathan, I promise you most solemnly before God, that 
if I live longer than you do, I will look after your 
wife and child, and they shall never want for any- 
thing. And I want you to promise me that if you 



344: TEN YEARS OF PEEACHER-LIFE J OK, 

live longer than I do, you will do the same by 
mine.' So we took off our liats, missis, out there in 
the field, and took a hold of each other's hands, and 
promised each other solemnly before God and the 
holy angels. He was a rich man, and I was free ; 
but I never left him. He lived a good while after 
that, and was always kind to me and mine. At last 
he died, and somehow or other the old missis and the 
boys got through with the property mighty fast, and 
so it was all clean gone. ITow, missis, don't you 
think it is my duty to take care of them ? They're 
poor, helpless things, and they haint no one else to 
look to." And the old man's voice was choked as 
big tears rolled from his eyes. 

Sure enough, he did take care of them. Both 
those young men died drunkards, and their mother's 
grey hairs were brought down in sorrow to the grave. 
She would have died in the poor-house, and they 
would have been buried like paupers, but for Uncle 
Nathan, who fulfilled his word to the letter. 

One of our old preachers had been a hereditary 
slaveholder in his early life. One of his servants 
■yis a zealous local preacher long before his conver- 
sion, and to the ministry of this man he owed his 
awakening. Some time after he joined the church, 
Jake Said to him : 

" Mass Kitty,* I think yon' s called to preach, and 
• 

* Kitty is the negro abbreviation of Christopher. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 34:5 



I'se gwine to give out an appintment for you at de 
old schoolhouse, to hole forf nex Sunday arternoon 
a week." 

The master protested his inability to preach, and 
endeavored in every way to evade the responsibility ; 
but Jake was inflexible. 

" De Lord hears prayer : claim de promise, Mass 
Kitty," said he. " Don't be afeard ; open your mout 
and de Lord Tl fill it. 6 Out of de mout of babes and 
suckling he's ordained praise.' " 

At length it was arranged that the master should 
make the effort ; but Jake was to sit behind him in 
the pulpit, and in case the former broke down, the 
latter was to rise and finish the discourse. Nerved 
for the trial by their common devotional exercises, 
the master was succeeding very well with his ser- 
mon, when suddenly, self-consciousness obtruded 
itself, and as he thought where he was and what he 
was doing, his heart failed, he stammered and turned 
pale. Casting an imploring look at Jake, he said, in 
a tremulous voice : 

" I must stop ; do get up and conclude." 

The servant had been listening with intense inter- 
est, breathing frequent and fervent prayers for his 
master's success, until now his sympathies were 
wrought up to the highest pitch. Springing to his 
feet, he slapped his master on the shoulder, exclaim- 
ng, at the top of his voice : 

15* 



316 



TEX TEAKS' OF PREACHER-LIFE \ OR, 



" Go on, Mass Kitty — go on. Te preach right 
well, ye do, considering it's nobody but you!" 

The master, feeling it to be his duty to preach, set 
his temporal affairs in order, manumitted his slaves, 
and entered the Itineracy. After an absence of two 
years, he returned to visit the neighborhood, and the 
first man he met on the road vras Jake, who had re- 
mained on " the old stamping ground.'' The em- 
braces of the old friends were hearty and affectionate, 
The bridle fell from the rider's haud, and he leaned 
forward on the horse's neck, while Jake's arm was 
about him, and his own around Jake, as they talked 
over the events that had occurred since they parted. 
Finally, the master said, his voice trembling with 
religious emotion : 

" Well, Jake, my brother, how do you come on 
down at the old schoolhouse ? You sing and pray 
as much as ever, and get happy in prospect of im- 
mortality and eternal life ?'' 

This appeal touched the negro in his tenderest part. 
Straightening himself, while his face glowed with 
unspeakable delight, he cried with vehemence : 

" Take care your horse, Mass Kitty — take care 
your horse, or he'll be skeert, for I feel the shout a 
coming." And having given this timely warning, 
he clapped his hands in a jubilant shout, " Glory to 
God — yes, I'm on my journey home." 

Negroes are rather fond of litigation, and church 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 347 

trials are frequent among them. I recollect one 
where I presided. A bright, strapping fellow, him- 
self not a member of the church, had preferred 
charges of unchaste conduct against one of my mem- 
bers, a damsel, who had otherwise a good report. 
Charges and specifications were served in due form, 
the time fixed for the investigation, the colored 
officiary was summoned and the issue made. Jim, 
who was the dining-room servant of a distinguished 
lawyer, and had picked up some scraps of law, 
appeared himself as prosecutor; Aunt Nancy, the 
girl's mother, sat by the side of her child. 

"Aunt Nancy," said I, "have you counsel, or do 
you wish for any ?" 

"No, sir," she replied; "I trust in de character 
of my child, and in King Jesus ; I'm sure that he'll 
bring out all for de best." 

It appeared, in evidence, that Jim, the plaintiff, 
had been a persistent suitor for the hand of 
Emily, the defendant; she had refused his pre- 
sence, refused to hearken to his importunity, and 
he had vowed to ruin her character. Witnesses for 
the prosecution were skillfully examined by Jim, 
who ventilated rumors and hinted suspicions 
against the girl, but nothing more, and it became 
partly evident that the whole affair was instigated by 
malice and supported by falsehood; nevertheless, 
Jim's effrontery in the examination of witnesses and 



348 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

in his argument, would have done credit to a " New 
York Shyster." * It was now Nancy's turn. 

"Have you anything to say?" I asked. "Not 
much," replied the infirm old woman, as she rose 
and stood, one hand leaning on her staff, the other 
on the shoulder of her child. "All you brevren 
know me, and have knowed me for many a year, and 
ye know that I would not lie. Now listen to what 
I'm gwine to say : Dis is my dorter, de only child 
left out,ov ten; de rest, bless de Lord, is safe in de 
kingdom, whar dey shall go out no more forever. 
Most of you are fathers and you know what it is to 
love a child; that is, you know all that men can 
know. But you can't begin to know what a woman 
feels for her darling. This is my child, and she has 
slept in my bosom every night since she was born ; 
she is eighteen now. She joined the church several 
years ago. She's a consistent Christian, and is walk- 
ing hand in hand with me on the road that leads to 
the land of everlasting rest. I've watched her as an 
old hen, tied to a stake, watches her only chicken. I 
know her through and through, and I know that 
these things that Jim has brought against her are 
mean, dirty lies. Jim's smart, but not as smart as he 
thinks lie is ; for the liar will be caught in his own 

* A class of ghouls, self-styled lawyers, haunting the "Tombs 
and practising in the Police Courts held in that great prison. 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 349 

trap, and ' the wicked shall be turned into hell with 
all the nations that forget God. 5 Yes, Jim, you've 
lied, and done the dirtiest thing that ever a man could 
try to do : tried to take away the character of one that 
you knew was an innocent and virtuous girl. You 
haven't proved a single thing against my child, and 
you couldn't. The devil put you up to this revenge, 
and if you don't look out, he'll get you for your 
pains. But, Jim, I won't curse you, though you've 
tried to break my heart. I forgive you, you poor 
miserable sinner, because the Bible says: 'Be not 
overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.' 
I'll pray for you, Jim ; but I never want to see you 
again in this world, for you've done my child a great 
wrong. A lie travels faster and further than the 
truth, and many a one will hear of your charge that 
won't hear that it wasn't sustained. A good reputa- 
tion is more precious to a wo.man than diamonds. 
Though I don't want to see you again in this world, 
P Jim, I hope we'll meet in Heaven." Jim couldn't 
stand this ; and, as the old woman sat down, burst into 
tears, fell upon his knees, and confessed that the 
whole story was an infamous slander, vowing that 
from that time forth, he would try to be a Christian, 
that he might at last meet her on Canaan's happy 
shore. 

If I have succeeded in reproducing feebly the old 
woman's speech, the reader will observe the illuGtra* 



350 TEX YEABS OF PKE ACKER-LIFE j OS, 

tion of a remarkable fact : the power of deep, excited 
feeling to correct the language, elevate the style, and 
impart a force and vividness of expression otherwise 
impossible. 

Whatever may be the issue of the slavery agita- 
tion, one thing is certain, and upon this I must be 
permitted to speak an earnest word. The duties of 
the white race toward the negro, are not duly recog- 
nized. It were a truism to affirm that he is a human 
being ; but it would not be impertinent to ask if he 
is treated as one. The first and most imperative 
demand which justice makes of the people of the 
southern States is the passage of laws forbidding 
the separation of man and wife, of parents and child- 
ren. Such rending asunder of the holiest bonds of 
our nature should not be allowed, cannot without 
incurring the dread anathema of a Christian civiliza- 
tion and the righteous indignation of God. Let no 
embittered sectional controversy, let no exciting poli- 
tical contest be used as an excuse to delay action, or 
hinder this consummation so devoutly to be wished. 
Loyalty to the South, to its sentiments, reason, con- 
science, demands the definite legal recognition of the 
negro as a human being, and of his family as sacred 
and inviolate. Worthy of immortal honor shall those 
men be that compass this end ! 

If I turn from the other end of the Union to this, 
I see the negro a Pariah, supine beneath the ban of 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 



351 



caste, stricken by the contempt, or stolid from the 
indifference of the greater portion of the community. 
He is degraded by the vulgar and abominable appella- 
tion — " nigger." If he take a seat in a car or stage, 
his white fellow-passengers change their places with 
eager haste, avoiding contact with him as if his pre- 
sence brought loathsome contagion.* He is shunned 
as a thing unclean. If a professed friend of his 
race summon sufficient moral courage to shake hands 
with him, there is apt to be a condescension in 
the act, which is in itself an insult ; and if you 
watch the hand-shakers narrowly, you will probably 
observe the white man slily wiping his dextral 
extension as if the black man's had left a stain upon 
it. The negro is, as I have said, a being of pecu- 
liarly fine sensibilities ; indeed, I presume I m'ght 
say with justice, possessing the finest sensibilities of 
any race upon earth in its condition. Without sym- 
pathy^ he is a cypher or worse ; he must be educated 
through his genial and generous affections, his rights 

One is always reminded upon such occasions of the justice of 
Sidney Smith's witty reply to Mr. Webster. " How is it, Mr. Web- 
ster," said the reverend philosopher, "that the Americans in the free 
States treat the negroes so badly ?" Mr. Webster, willing to waive 
the discussion of the subject, answered jocosely, " The truth is, we 
can hardly do otherwise, they have such a bad smell." " A great 
people like yours," replied Smith, " should not be turned aside from 
justice and be led by the nose in that way." 



352 TEN" YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

must be guaranteed to him, not grudgingly or of 
necessity, but with hearty warmth and benignant 
kindness. It will be some time before he is raised to 
the level of a perfect human being — indeed, before 
any of us reach that enviable station. — Meanwhile let 
every man, whether Abolitionist, Conservative or 
Fire-eater, bear in mind that this nation owes an infi- 
nite debt to the negro, and that it is our solemn duty 
to do what in our power lies, not by idle boast or 
braggart vaunt, fierce tirade or empty profession, 
but by earnest, affectionate good will and effort to 
secure his temporal and eternal welfare. 



CHAPTERS FROM AST AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 353 



OHAPTEE XXXXI. 

FLIGHT FOR LIFE. 

I went to the South in pursuit of health and 
strength, but it will not require much sagacity to 
perceive from the hints which have been given of 
my way of life, that I did not find them. It was 
necessary for me several times to quit home, that I 
might overcome languor and recruit my energies in the 
more bracing atmosphere of the North. 

The approach of summer was always as the com- 
ing of a strong man armed, and frequently I was 
compelled to flee almost for life. Lassitude, which 
often amounted to utter prostration, prevented my 
enjoyment of that season so delicious on our gulf 
coast, which poets have ever been wont to sing, and 
which none of them have more happily described 
than Solomon : 

M Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. 

w The flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds 
is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. 

" The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and tbe vines with the 
tender grape give a good smell." 



35 £ TEN TEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; OR, 

In tlie course of one of my northward flights 
which occurred in the spring of 1850, I formed some 
acquaintances and revived some old associations, the 
reminiscence of which will ever be grateful. I 
made the voyage from ISTew Orleans to St. Louis in 
company with a large number of the prominent 
ministers of our church, who were on their way 
to attend a session of the General Conference to 
assemble in the last named place. The man of the 
party in whom I felt the deepest interest, was the 
venerable Dr. "William "Winans, who joined us at 
Natchez. 

An Englishman, accustomed to the trim white 
neck-tie, the cassock vest and shiny black suit of the 
professional costume at home, could scarce have 
guessed from his appearance, that the old man was a 
preacher. The commanding height of his large mus- 
cular figure, was surmounted by a broad-brimmed 
white beaver, and he was clad in brown jeans, while 
his throat had not the slightest covering except the 
collar of his shirt. Tou saw at a glance that he was 
a backwoodsman, but one of the finest type. His 
face was bronzed by exposure and withal seamed 
with countless wrinkles. As you looked at the lines 
about his mouth, you were in doubt whether iron 
resolution or genial kindness were the prevailing 
expression, but as you caught the warm sunny light, 
which beamed from his rather small grey eyes, you 



CHAPTERS FROM £X AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 355 



felt that the casting vote was given in favor of the 
latter. I at once devoted myself to this veteran, 
"whose name had been familiar as a household word 
from infancy, and we were inseparable for the rest 
of the voyage. I have seldom enjoyed a week more 
than that, notwithstanding it was a cholera season on 
the Mississippi, and that the pestilence was daily 
numbering some of our fellow-passengers as its vic- 
tims. Day by day the boat would lie to and be 
made fast to the shore, while one or more rude boxes, 
hastily constructed by the boat's carpenter, were 
carried to land, a pit hollowed out, the burial service 
read, and they were left to return to the dust from 
whence they were taken. 

I suppose that I must have a constitutional insus- 
ceptibility to epidemic diseases; at all events, this 
close neighborhood of the plague did not affect my 
regained appetite, nor interfere with the delight I 
experienced in the society of the pioneer preacher. 
He had looked upon death so often and in so many 
awful forms, that he did not dread it now ; our con- 
versation, therefore, was scarce suspended except for 
visits to the sick or to attend the burials, or when 
the tolling bell announced that another spirit had 
departed. He had begun life as a blacksmith, in the 
Northwestern Territory, and in time became one of 
Bishop Asbury's preachers. There was hardly an 
inhabited nook or corner in the great valley of tha 



356 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE J OR, 

West, which he had not visited to proclaim the glad 
tidings ; but his special work had lain in the newly 
opened plantations of the Southwest. His life had 
been a hard one, but his manners were quiet and 
refined, showing that labor and hardship had not 
crisped or soured his temper. His voice was 
peculiarly sweet and soft, and I shall never forget 
the way in which he would say, " My son." " Why 
do you not wear a neckerchief, doctor ?" " Because 
it gave me the bronchitis ; I wore one when I came as 
a young man into the settled and civilized parts of 
the country, but discovered before long, that it was a 
halter which was choking me ; so I tore it off and 
threw it away. When I married, my wife thought 
that a man could hardly be a minister, unless he 
wore a neckerchief; to please her, I put it on again, 
but was not three months older, when I discovered 
that my throat was becoming seriously affected, and 
that I must either give up my voice or my cravat. 
It is my opinion that these starched, stiff choke-rags 
which clergymen call the badge of their profession, 
together with reading sermons, are the cause of the 
throat disease, styled the minister's complaint, and I 
am sure that if they would pitch them to the dogs, 
and preach off-hand, you would never hear of another 
case of bronchitis in the pulpit." He mentioned two 
instances which illustrate the impressible nature of 
young men, and indicate the origin of many of the 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 357 

bad habits of public speakers. One of his presiding 
elders, not knowing what to do with his right hand 
while preaching, was accustomed to place it behind 
him, and afford it occupation in twisting off the 
buttons from the back of his coat. Another of his 
seniors was a little hard of hearing, and to catch the 
sound of his own voice more distinctly, would put 
his right hand around his ear, thus forming a concave 
mirror to collect the reverberated sound. 

Young "Winans, from sheer admiration for these 
his elders and betters, quite unconsciously adopted 
these pleasing and graceful attitudes and occupations, 
and when admonished by some judicious friends, 
could scarcely believe that he had fallen into such 
practices it required the care of months to desist from. 

As we sat upon the hurricane deck of our proud 
steamer at sunset, or deep in the night, talking of old 
times, of the hardships which our men endured, and 
of the labors which they performed, my breast 
glowed with pride at the thought that I was counted 
worthy to belong to an army which had numbered 
such heroes in its ranks. It is impossible to exagge- 
rate either their toils, their sufferings, or their suc- 
cesses. I cannot state the case better than in using the 
language of a friend.* "When Methodism began to 
spread in America, converts rapidly multiplied under 

*The Rev. J. B. Hagany, in his article on John Wesley, in 
" Harper's Magazine." 



358 TEN YEARS OF PKEACHER-LIFE J OK, 

the missionaries sent out by Wesley, and the neces* 
sity for more preachers was greater than the supply. 
Almost anything that offered was accepted. Few 
had any acquaintance with English grammar, others 
could not write their names, and some could scarcely 
read. Good lungs, a loose tongue, personal piety, 
zeal that could dare the rigors of a northern winter, 
or the ardor of a southern sun, joined to about as 
much theological knowledge as that a man must 
mend, or the devil will away with him, made up the 
sum total necessary to a beginning. Thus equipped 
and mounted on horseback, these men penetrated 
every State and territory of the land, enduring the 
hardest fare, sleeping in the woods, chased by wolves, 
pounced on by panthers, laughed at, pelted with rot- 
ten eggs, stoned and beaten by the motley crews who 
composed their congregations. Yet they were suc^ 
cessful in thousands of real conversions. Following 
the tide of emigration westward, their plain preach- 
ing kept the religious sentiment alive, and thus laid 
a sure foundation for civil government in the western 
mind, which otherwise had degenerated to the savage 
State. It is illustrative of the vital power of the 
Gospel, that its elementary truths, earnestly delivered 
by men who knew no more of general literature than 
the horses they rode, led the worst classes of society 
from the most dissolute to the most moral and orderly 
habits of life. Francis Asbury was the ruling spirit 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 359 

among the American Methodists ; their first bishop, 
with a continent for a diocese, and, for labors, suffer- 
ings and success, unsurpassed by any name in modern 
Christianity. "Washington was not better entitled to 
be called the father of his country than Francis 
Asbury its apostle." 

Poor and unlearned as these men were, they were 
yet, according to their means, the munificent patrons 
of learning ; for by their gifts and energy our schools 
and colleges were established. Many of them became 
themselves admirable scholars, and made an ample 
provision for the future, that their successors should 
not want the means of liberal education. They were 
generous with the little money which they received, 
as they were magnanimous in the use of health and 
life. Of them it might be said, what the great apos- 
tle spate of himself: "In all things they approved 
themselves the ministers of God ; in much patience, 
in afflictions, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in 
imprisonments, in tumults, in labors, in watchings, in 
fastings ; by pureness, by long suffering, by kindness, 
by the Holy Ghost, by love unfeigned, by the word 
of truth, by the power of God, by the armor of 
righteousness on the right hand, and, on the left, by 
honor and dishonor ; by evil report and good report : 
as deceivers, and yet true ; as unknown, and yet well 
known ; as dying, and behold they live ; as chastened, 
and not killed ; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing • 



360 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER- LIFE J OR, 

as poor, yet making many rich ; as having nothing, 
and yet possessing all things." 

As setting forth the more cheerful side of their 
character, I cannot resist the temptation to use the 
language of another of my friends, the Rev. Dr. 
Stevens, whose history of Methodism is probably the 
most brilliant production in literature to which the 
mind of our church has yet given birth. " Notwith- 
standing their many hardships, the early Methodist 
preachers were notable as a cheerful, if not, indeed, 
a humorous class of men. Their hopeful theology, 
their continual success, their conscious self-sacrifice 
for the good of others, the great variety of characters 
they met in their travels, and their habit of self- 
accommodation to all, gave them an ease, a Ion- 
Jiomie, which often took the form of jocose humor; 
and the occasional morbid minds among them could 
hardly resist the infectious example of their happier 
brethren. While they were as earnest as men about 
to meet death, and full of the tenderness which could 
'weep with those who wept,' no men could better 
'rejoice with those who rejoiced. 5 They were usu- 
ally the best story-tellers on their long circuits, and 
of course had abundance of their own adventures to 
relate at the hearths and tables of their hosts. Not a 
few of them became noted as wits, in the best sense 
of the term, and were by their repartees, as well as 
their courage and religious earnestness, a terror to 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 361 

evil-doers. The American Methodist preachers were 
the greatest wits of the last century in the 'New 
World ; the fact is historical, whether it be esteemed 
creditable or not ; and, rightly considered, it is far 
from discreditable. If few men could better relish 
innocent humor, few were more devout, few greater 
laborers or greater sufferers.' 5 

It is not unusual for the polite literature of the 
time to sneer at, or to satirize and caricature the Christ- 
ian ministry. I do not remember the worthy por- 
traiture of a single preacher of righteousness in the 
writings of Mr. Thackeray, or Mr. Dickens, or in those 
of Mr. George "W. Curtis, one of our own rising young 
authors. They have favored the world with pictures 
of the Stigginses, Chadbands, Honeymans, Cream- 
cheeses, and Peewees of their acquaintance : perhaps 
they have been so unfortunate as to possess none 
other. If so, I am sorry for them. But let me 
assure them, and all who think as they seem to think, 
that while there may be unworthy members of the 
clerical profession ; for patient toil and disinterested 
labor, for self-sacrifice extending through life, for 
brave and cheerful performance of duty, that profes- 
sion stands unrivalled, un approached in the annals 
of the world. I submit, if it be fair in art, to repre- 
sent a class by an exception, or to stigmatize those, 
who, notwithstanding all that has been written 
against priestcraft, the tyranny and superstition of 

16 



362 TEN YEARS OF PREACHER-LIFE ; ' OK, 

the clergy, have, nevertheless, been in every age the 
best friends of their kind, and in no age more truly 
than in our own. 

Shall the hive be denounced because it contains 
solitary drones ? or the entire literary profession held 
up to ridicule, because it may happen to have snobs or 
tuft-hunters, or rogues in its ranks ? I claim for my 
brethren no exclusive sanctity ; I ask no tribute for 
them which is not justified by their courage, honor, 
fidelity, their love of man, and fear of God ; and the 
worst wish I cherish for those who have been, uncon- 
sciously or not, their detractors, is, that they may die 
as happily. u Our people die well," said Mr. "Wes- 
ley. And his own last words, echoed by thousands 
of his sons in the Gospel on both sides of the Atlan- 
tic, in their final hour, were, "The best of all is, 
God is with us." 

My venerable friend, Dr. Winans, closed his long 
and eventful career two years ago, while I was 
abroad. I have never 'learned the particulars of his 
death, only this, that his end was peace. 

My various efforts to regain health while residing 
in the South were futile, and at length, toward the 
close of a six years' residence there, in the summer 
of 1853, the physicians assured me that I had no 
alternative but to leave the country or die. The 
climate had made fearful inroads upon my system, 
my physique was utterly prostrated, and my mind 



CHAPTERS FROM AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 363 



almost a wreck. I could barely drag one foot after 
the other, and it was with difficulty that I could re- 
member my own name. With a sad and heavy 
heart I turned my back upon my adopted home, and 
by slow and easy stages, with my wife and three 
little children, reached New York. 

September 26th, 1853. — This is the thirtieth anni- 
versary of my birth-day, and it closes the first ten 
years of my life as a Methodist Preacher. The cry 
of a new-born babe, my fourth child, is heard in the 
house, and I feel myself almost as weak and help- 
less as that infant. In that sea of waters which 
threatens to ingulf me, there is nothing to which I 
can cling but the word of Him who hath said : 

" Behold the fowls of the air : for #iey sow not, neither do they 
reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. 
Are ye not much better than they ? Consider the lilies of the field, 
how they grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet I say 
unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one 
of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which 
to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more 
clothe you, ye of little faith ? Take therefore no thought for the 
morrow ; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself 
Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." 



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